CALIBAN 


YELLOW  SANDS 


SHAKESPEARE 
rERCENTENARY 


ERCY     IACKAYE 


CALIFORNIA 
5ANTA  CRUZ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


BEQUEST  OF 
PROFESSOR  JOHN  S.  P.  TATLOCK 


WORKS  BY  PERCY  MACKAYE 


DRAMAS 

THE  CANTERBURY  PILGRIMS.    A  Comedy. 
JEANNE  D'ARC.    A  Tragedy. 
SAPPHO  AND  PHAON.    A  Tragedy. 
FENRIS  THE  WOLF.    A  Tragedy. 
A  GARLAND  TO  SYLVIA.    A  Dramatic  Reverie. 
THE  SCARECROW.    A  Tragedy  of  the  Ludicrous. 
YANKEE  FANTASIES.    Five  One-act  Plays. 
MATER.    An  American  Study  in  Comedy. 
ANTI-MATRIMONY.    A  Satirical  Comedy. 
TO-MORROW.    A  Play  in  Three  Acts. 
A  THOUSAND  YEARS  AGO.  A  Romance  of  the  Orient. 
THE  IMMIGRANTS.    A  Lyric  Drama. 

MASQUES 

CALIBAN.    A  Shakespeare  Masque. 
SAINT  Louis.    A  Civic  Masque. 
SANCTUARY.    A  Bird  Masque. 
THE  NEW  CITIZENSHIP.    A  Civic  Ritual. 

POEMS 

THE  SISTINE  EVE,  and  Other  Poems. 
URIEL,  and  Other  Poems. 
LINCOLN.    A  Centenary  Ode. 
THE  PRESENT  HOUR. 
POEMS  AND  PLAYS.    In  Two  Volumes. 

ESSAYS 

THE  PLAYHOUSE  AND  THE  PLAY. 
THE  Crvic  THEATRE. 
A  SUBSTITUTE  FOR  WAR. 


AT  ALL  BOOKSELLERS 

Uniform  with  this  volume 

SAINT  LOUIS:  A  Civic  MASQUE 

AS  ENACTED  BY  7,OOO  CITIZENS  OF  SAINT  LOUIS 


CALIBAN 


PRELIMINARY  SKETCH  OF  SETEBOS,  BY  JOSEPH  URBAN 


CALIBAN 

BY  THE  YELLOW  SANDS 


BY 

PERCY  MACKAYE 


GARDEN  CITY  NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

1916 


ENDORSED  BY  THE  DRAMA  LEAGUE  OF  AMERICA 


Copyright,  1916,  by 
PERCY  MACKAYE 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translation  into  foreign  languages, 

including  the  Scandinavian 

All  acting  rights,  and  motion  picture  rights,  are  reserved 

by  the  author  in  the  United  States,  Great  Britain 

and  countries  of  the  copyright  Union 


SPECIAL  NOTICE 

Regarding  Public  Performances  and  Readings 

No  performance  of  this  Masque — professional  or  amateur — and 
no  public  reading  of  it  may  be  given  without  the  written  permission 
of  the  author  and  the  payment  of  royalty. 

The  author  should  be  addressed  in  care  of  the  publishers. 

During  the  Shakespeare  Tercentenary  season  of  1916,  the  Masque 
—after  its  New  York  production  at  the  City  College  Stadium,  May 
23,  24,  25,  26,  27 — will  be  available  for  production  elsewhere,  on  a 
modified  scale  of  stage  performance. 

With  proper  organization  and  direction,  amateur  participants 
may  take  part  in  performances  with  or  without  the  Interludes. 

For  particulars  concerning  performances  wholly  amateur,  address 
Miss  Clara  Fitch,  Secretary  Shakespeare  Tercentenary  Committee, 
736  Marquette  Building,  Chicago,  111. 

After  June  first,  a  professional  company,  which  will  cooperate 
with  local  communities,  will  take  the  Masque  on  tour.  For  partic- 
ulars address  Miss.  A.  M.  Houston,  Drama  League  of  America,  736 
Marquette  Building,  Chicago,  111. 


'Come  unto  these  yellow  sands, 
And  then  take  hands!" 

THE  TEMPEST. 


CALIBAN 

BY  THE  YELLOW  SANDS 

A  COMMUNITY  MASQUE 
Of  the  Art  of  the  Theatre 

Devised  and  Written  to  Commemorate  the 

Tercentenary  of  the  Death  of 

SHAKESPEARE 

Illustrations  by 
Joseph  Urban  &  Robert  Edmond  Jones 


PS 


TO    .    THE    .    ONLIE 

BEGETTER    .    OF    .    THE    .    BEST 

IN    .    THESE    .    INSUING 

SCENES 
MASTER   .    W    .    S 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  AND  CHARTS 

Cover  Design:  "When  the  kings  of  earth  clasp 
hands"  (Act  II,  Second  Inner  Scene).  By 
Robert  Edmond  Jones. 

Preliminary  Sketch  of  Setebos.    By  Joseph  Urban 

Frontispiece 


FACING  PAGE 


Ground  Plan  for  Auditorium  (with  Stages  of 
Masque  Proper  and  Interludes).  By  Joseph 
Urban xxx 

Design  of  Stage  for  Masque  Proper.     By  Joseph 

Urban xxxii 

Preliminary  Sketch  for  Seventh  Inner  Scene.    By 

Robert  Edmond  Jones 98 

Preliminary  Sketch  for  Tenth  Inner  Scene.     By 

Robert  Edmond  Jones 138 

APPENDIX 

Inner  Structure  of  Masque  (Chart).     By  Percy 

MacKaye 154 

A  Community  Masque  Audience  (Photograph). 

By  E.  O.  Thalinger 156 

Community  Masque  Organization  Plan  (Chart). 

By  Hazel  MacKaye 158 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


PREFACE xiii 

MASQUE  STRUCTURE xxix 

PERSONS  AND  PRESENCES  .      .      .      .      .      .      .  xxxi 

PROLOGUE   3 

FIRST  INTERLUDE 32 

ACT  I 34 

SECOND  INTERLUDE 76 

ACT  II 78 

THIRD  INTERLUDE no 

ACT  III in 

EPILOGUE 142 

APPENDIX 147 


PREFACE 

Three  hundred  years  alive  on  the  23rd  of  April,  1916, 
the  memory  of  Shakespeare  calls  creatively  upon  a 
self-destroying  world  to  do  him  honor  by  honoring 
that  world-constructive  art  of  which  he  is  a  master 
architect. 

Over  seas,  the  choral  hymns  of  cannon  acclaim  his 
death;  in  battle- trenches  artists  are  turned  subtly  in- 
genious to  inter  his  art;  War,  Lust,  and  Death  are  risen 
in  power  to  restore  the  primeval  reign  of  Setebos. 

Here  in  America,  where  the  neighboring  waters  of  his 
"  vexed  Bermoothes"  lie  more  calm  than  those  about 
his  own  native  isle,  here  only  is  given  some  practical 
opportunity  for  his  uninterable  spirit  to  create  new 
splendid  symbols  for  peace  through  harmonious  inter- 
national expression. 

As  one  means  of  serving  such  expression,  and  so,  if 
possible,  of  paying  tribute  to  that  creative  spirit  in  forms 
of  his  own  art,  I  have  devised  and  written  this  Masque, 
at  the  invitation  of  the  Shakespeare  Celebration  Com- 
mittee of  New  York  City. 

The  dramatic-symbolic  motive  of  the  Masque  I  have 
taken  from  Shakespeare's  own  play  "The  Tempest," 

xiii 


xiv  PREFACE 

Act  I,  Scene  2.     There,   speaking  to  Ariel,   Prospero 

says: 

"Hast  thou  forgot 

The  foul  witch  Sycorax,  who  with  age  and  envy 
Was  grown  in  to  a  hoop?     .     This  damn'd  witch  Sycorax, 
For  mischiefs  manifold  and  sorceries  terrible 
To  enter  human  hearing    .    was  hither  brought  with  child 
And  there  was  left  by  the  sailors.     Thou     .     . 
Wast  then  her  servant; 
And,  for  thou  wast  a  spirit  too  delicate 
To  act  her  earthly  and  abhorred  commands, 
Refusing  her  grand  hests,  she  did  confine  thee, 
By  help  of  her  most  potent  ministers 
And  in  her  most  unmitigable  rage, 
Into  a  cloven  pine,  within  which  rift 
Imprisoned  thou  didst  painfully  remain     .     . 
Then  was  this  island- 
Save  for  the  son  that  she  did  litter  here, 
A  freckled  whelp  hag-born — not  honor'd  with 
A  human  shape     .     .     .that  Caliban 
Whom  now  I  keep  in  service.     Thou  best  know'st 
What  torment  I  did  find  thee  in,     .     .     it  was  a  torment 
To  lay  upon  the  damn'd     .     .     //  was  mine  art, 
When  I  arrived  and  heard  thee,  that  made  gape 
The  pine  and  let  thee  out. " 

"  It  was  mine  art "     .     .    There — in  Prospero 's  words 
[and  Shakespeare's] — is  the  text  of  this  Masque, 


PREFACE  xv 

The  art  of  Prospero  I  have  conceived  as  the  art  of 
Shakespeare  in  its  universal  scope:  that  many-visioned 
art  of  the  theatre  which,  age  after  age,  has  come  to  liber- 
ate the  imprisoned  imagination  of  mankind  from  the 
fetters  of  brute  force  and  ignorance;  that  same  art  which, 
being  usurped  or  stifled  by  groping  part-knowledge, 
prudery,  or  lust,  has  been  botched  in  its  ideal  aims  and— 
like  fire  ill-handled  or  ill-hidden  by  a  passionate  child- 
has  wrought  havoc,  hypocrisy,  and  decadence. 

Caliban,  then,  in  this  Masque,  is  that  passionate 
child-curious  part  of  us  all  [whether  as  individuals  or  as 
races],  grovelling  close  to  his  aboriginal  origins,  yet 
groping  up  and  staggering — with  almost  rhythmic  falls 
and  back-slidings — toward  that  serener  plane  of  pity  and 
love,  reason  and  disciplined  will,  where  Miranda  and 
Prospero  commune  with  Ariel  and  his  Spirits. 

In  deference  to  the  master-originator  of  these  charac- 
ters and  their  names,  it  is,  I  think,  incumbent  on  me  to 
point  out  that  these  four  characters,  derived — but  re- 
imagined — from  Shakespeare's  "The  Tempest,"  be- 
come, for  the  purposes  of  my  Masque,  the  presiding 
symbolic  Dramatis  Persona  of  a  plot  and  conflict  which 
are  my  own  conception.  They  are  thus  no  longer  Shake- 
speare's characters  of  "The  Tempest,"  though  born  of 
them  and  bearing  their  names. 

Their  words  [save  for  a  very  few  song-snatches  and 
sentences]  and  their  actions  are  those  which  I  have  given 


xvi  PREFACE 

them;  the  development  of  their  characters  accords  with 
the  theme — not  of  Shakespeare's  play  but  of  this  Masque, 
in  which  Caliban's  nature  is  developed  to  become  the 
protagonist  of  aspiring  humanity,  not  simply  its  butt  of 
shame  and  ridicule. 

My  conception  and  treatment  also  of  Setebos  [whose 
name  is  but  a  passing  reference  in  Shakespeare's  play], 
the  fanged  idol  [substituted  by  me  for  the  "  cloven  pine  "] ; 
of  Sycorax,  as  Setebos'  mate  [in  form  a  super-puppet,  an 
earth-spirit  rather  than  "witch"],  from  both  of  whom 
Caliban  has  sprung;  of  the  Shakespearian  Inner  Scenes, 
as  brief -flashing  visions  in  the  mind  of  Prospero;  of  the 
"Yellow  Sands"  as  his  magic  isle,  the  world;  these  are 
not  liberties  taken  with  text  or  characters  of  Shakespeare; 
they  are  simply  the  means  of  dramatic  license  whereby 
my  Masque  aims  to  accord  its  theme  with  the  art  and 
spirit  of  Shakespeare. 

Shakespeare's  own  characters,  that  use  his  words1 
in  scenes  of  his  plays,  have  then  no  part  in  my  Masque, 
except  in  the  Inner  Scenes,2  where  they  are  conceived  as 
being  conjured  by  Prospero  and  enacted  by  the  Spirits  of 
Ariel. 


lThe  words  of  Shakespeare  used  in  this  Masque,  are  quoted  from  the 
Tudor  Edition  of  Shakespeare's  Works,  edited  by  Neilson  and  Thorn- 
dike  (Macmillan).  The  stage  directions  and  cuts,  however,  are  not  taken 
from  any  edition,  but  have  been  made  by  me  for  purposes  of  the  Inner 
Scenes. 

In  this  book  these  Inner  Scenes  are  printed  in  black-faced  type. 


PREFACE  xvii 

The  theme  of  the  Masque  —  Caliban  seeking  to  learn 
the  art  of  Prospero  —  is,  of  course,  the  slow  education  of 
mankind  through  the  influences  of  cooperative  art,  that 
is,  of  the  art  of  the  theatre  in  its  full  social  scope.  This 
theme  of  cooperation  is  expressed  earliest  in  the  Masque 
through  the  lyric  of  Ariel's  Spirits  taken  from  "The 
Tempest";  it  is  sounded,  with  central  stress,  in  the 
chorus  of  peace  when  the  kings  clasp  hands  on  the  .Field 
of  the  Cloth  of  Gold;1  and,  with  final  emphasis,  in  the 
gathering  together  of  the  creative  forces  of  dramatic  art  in 
the  Epilogue.  Thus  its  motto  is  the  one  printed  on  the 
title  page,  in  Shakespeare's  words: 

"Come  unto  these  yellow  sands 
And  then  take  hands.  " 

So  much  for  my  Masque  in  its  relationship  to  Shake- 
speare's work  and  his  art.  Its  contribution  to  the 
modern  development  of  a  form  of  dramatic  art  unprac- 
tised by  him  requires  some  brief  comment. 

This  work  is  not  a  pageant,  in  the  sense  that  the 
festivals  excellently  devised  by  Mr.  Louis  N.  Parker  in 
England,  Mr.  Lascelles  in  Canada,  or  Mr.  Thomas 
Wood  Stevens  in  America  have  been  called  pageants. 
Though  of  necessity  it  involves  aspects  of  pageantry,  its 
form  is  more  closely  related  to  the  forms  of  Greek  drama 


is  the  motive  of  Mr.  Robert  Edmond  Jones'  cover  design  for 
this  volume. 


xviii  PREFACE 

and  of  opera.  Yet  it  is  neither  of  these.  It  is  a  new 
form  to  meet  new  needs. 

I  have  called  this  work  a  Masque,  because — like  other 
works  so  named  in  the  past — it  is  a  dramatic  work  of 
symbolism  involving,  in  its  structure,  pageantry,  poetry, 
and  the  dance.  Yet  I  have  by  no  means  sought  to  relate 
its  structure  to  an  historic  form;  I  have  simply  sought 
by  its  structure  to  solve  a  modern  [and  a  future]  problem 
of  the  art  of  the  theatre.  That  problem  is  the  new  one  of 
creating  a  focussed  dramatic  technique  for  the  growing 
but  groping  movement  vaguely  called  " pageantry/' 
which  is  itself  a  vital  sign  of  social  evolution — the  half- 
desire  of  the  people  not  merely  to  remain  receptive  to  a 
popular  art  created  by  specialists,  but  to  take  part 
themselves  in  creating  it;  the  desire,  that  is,  of  democracy 
consistently  to  seek  expression  through  a  drama  of  and  by 
the  people,  not  merely  for  the  people. 

For  some  ten  years  that  potential  drama  of  democracy 
has  interested  me  as  a  fascinating  goal  for  both  dramatist 
and  citizen,  in  seeking  solution  for  the  vast  problem  of 
leisure.1  Two  years  ago  at  Saint  Louis  I  had  my  first 
technical  opportunity,  on  a  large  scale,  to  experiment  in 
devising  a  dramatic  structure  for  its  many-sided  require- 

*An  outline  of  suggestions  on  this  subject  I  published  in  a  volume, 
"The  Civic  Theatre,  in  Relation  to  the  Redemption  of  Leisure"  [1912]. 
Further  ideas  and  their  applications  are  contained  in  the  prefaces  and 
dramatic  texts  of  my  Bird  Masque  " Sanctuary,"  "Saint  Louis:  A 
Civic  Masque,"  and  "The  New  Citizenship,"  a  Civic  Ritual. 


PREFACE  xix 

ments.  There,  during  five  performances,  witnessed  by 
half  a  million  people,  about  seven  thousand  citizens  of 
Saint  Louis  took  part  in  my  Masque  [in  association  with 
the  Pageant  by  Thomas  Wood  Stevens].  In  the  appen- 
dix of  this  volume  a  photograph  gives  a  suggestion  of  one 
of  those  audiences,  gathered  in  their  public  park  [in  seats 
half  of  which  were  free,  half  pay-seats]  to  witness  the 
production. 1 

That  production  was  truly  a  drama  of,  for,  and  by  the 
people — a  true  Community  Masque;  and  it  was  largely 
with  the  thought  of  that  successful  civic  precedent  that 
the  Shakespeare  Celebration  first  looked  to  Central 
Park  as  the  appropriate  site  to  produce  their  Community 
Festival,  the  present  Masque,  as  the  central  popular 
expression  of  some  hundreds  of  supplementary  Shake- 
spearean celebrations. 

In  so  doing,  they  conceived  the  function  of  a  public 
park — as  it  is  conceived  almost  universally  west  of  the 
Eastern  States,  and  almost  everywhere  in  Europe — to 
be  that  of  providing  outdoor  space  for  the  people's 
expression  in  civic  art-forms. 

The  sincere  opposition  of  a  portion  of  the  community 
to  this  use  of  Central  Park  would  never,  I  think,  have 
arisen,  if  New  York  could  have  taken  counsel  with  Saint 

^he  outgoing  cost  of  the  Saint  Louis  production  was  $122,000; 
the  income  $139,000.  The  balance  of  $17,000  has  been  devoted  to  a 
fund  for  civic  art.  The  cost  of  producing  a  single  play  by  Sophocles 
at  Athens  was  $500,000. 


xx  PREFACE 

Louis's  experience,  and  its  wonderfully  happy  civic  and 
social  reactions.  The  opposition,  however,  was  strong 
and  conscientious;  so  that,  on  the  same  principle  of 
community  solidarity  which  was  the  raison  d'etre  for 
their  informal  application  to  use  Central  Park,  the 
Shakespeare  Celebration  withdrew  their  wish  to  use  it. 
To  split  community  feeling  by  acrimonious  discussion 
was  contrary  to  the  basic  idea  and  function  of  the  Cele- 
bration, which  are  to  help  unite  all  classes  and  all  beliefs 
in  a  great  cooperative  movement  for  civic  expression 
through  dramatic  art. 

One  very  important  public  service,  however,  was  per- 
formed by  this  Central  Park  discussion;  it  served  clearly 
to  point  out  a  colossal  lack  in  the  democratic  equipment 
of  the  largest  and  richest  metropolis  of  the  western 
hemisphere:  namely,  the  total  lack  of  any  public  place 
of  meeting,  where  representative  numbers  of  New  York 
citizens  can  unite  in  seeing,  hearing,  and  taking  part  in  a 
festival  or  civic  communion  of  their  own.  New  York,  a 
city  of  five  million  inhabitants,  possesses  no  public 
stadium  or  community  theatre.  Little  Athens,  a  mere 
village  in  comparison,  had  for  its  heart  such  a  community 
theatre,  which  became  the  heart  of  civilization.  Without 
such  an  instrument,  our  own  democracy  cannot  hope  to 
develop  that  cooperative  art  which  is  the  expression  of 
true  civilization  in  all  ages. 

Happily  for  the  Shakespeare  Celebration  and  its  aims, 


PREFACE  xxi 

a  large  measure  of  solution  has,  at  the  date  of  this  preface, 
been  attained  by  the  gracious  offer  of  the  New  York  City 
College  authorities,  through  President  Mezes,  to  permit 
the  use  of  the  Lewisohn  Stadium  and  athletic  field, 
temporarily  to  be  converted  into  a  sort  of  miniature  Yale 
Bowl,  for  the  production  of  the  Shakespeare  Masque 
on  the  night  of  May  23rd  and  the  following  four 
nights. 

By  the  brilliant  conception  and  technical  plans  of  Mr. 
Joseph  Urban  for  joining  to  the  present  concrete  stadium 
of  Mr.  Arnold  Brunner  its  duplicate  in  wood,  on  the  east 
side  of  the  field,  and  so  placing  the  stage  on  its  narrower 
width  to  the  north,  there  will  be  created  a  practical  out- 
door theatre,  remarkable  in  acoustics,  qualified  to  accom- 
modate in  excellent  seats  about  twenty  thousand  spec- 
tators, and  some  two  or  three  thousand  participants  in 
the  festival. 

If  such  a  consummation  shall  eventually  become  per- 
manent there,  it  will  complete  the  realization  of  a  prac- 
ticable dream  already  rendered  partly  complete  by  Mr. 
Adolf  Lewisohn's  public-spirited  donation  of  the  present 
concrete  structure.  Referring  to  that  practicable  dream, 
I  wrote  four  years  ago  in  my  volume  "The  Civic  Thea- 
tre":1 "One  day  last  spring,  traversing  with  President 
John  Finley  the  grounds  lately  appropriated,  through  his 
fine  efforts,  by  the  City  of  New  York  for  a  great  stadium  at 

Tage  71,  on  Constructive  Leisure  (Mitchell  Kennerley,  1912). 


xxii  PREFACE 

the  City  College,  I  discussed  with  him  the  splendid  op- 
portunity there  presented  for  focussing  the  popular  en- 
thusiasm toward  athletic  games  in  an  art  dramatic  and 
nobly  spectacular. " 

This  new  dramatic  art-form,  then — a  technique  of  the 
theatre  adapted  to  democratic  expression  and  dedicated 
to  public  service — I  have  called  by  the  name  Community 
Masque,  and  have  sought  to  exemplify  it  on  a  large  scale 
in  two  instances,  at  Saint  Louis  and  at  New  York. 

The  occasion  of  this  preface  is  not  one  to  discuss  the 
details  of  that  new  technique  further  than  to  suggest  to 
the  public,  and  to  those  critics  who  might  be  interested 
to  make  its  implications  clearer  than  the  author  and  direc- 
tor of  a  production  has  time  or  opportunity  to  do,  that 
the  exacting  time  limits  of  presenting  dramatically  a 
theme  involving  many  dissociated  ages,  through  many 
hundreds  of  symbolic  participants  and  leaders,  are  con- 
ditions which  themselves  impel  the  imagination  toward 
creating  a  technique  as  architectural  as  music,  as  color- 
ful as  the  pageant,  as  dramatic  as  the  play,  as  plastic  as 
the  dance. 

That  my  own  work  has  attained  to  such  a  technique 
I  am  very  far  from  supposing.  I  have,  however,  clearly 
seen  the  need  for  attaining  to  it,  whatever  the  difficulties, 
if  a  great  opportunity  for  democracy  is  not  to  be  lost. 
To  see  that  much,  at  a  time  when  the  vagueness  of  ama- 
teurs, however  idealistic  in  desire,  is  obscuring  the  aus- 


PREFACE  xxiii 

tere  outlines  of  a  noble  technical  art  looming  just  beyond 
us,  may  perhaps  be  of  some  service. 

As  visual  hints  to  the  structure  (Inner  and  Outer)  of 
the  present  Masque,  the  charts  here  published  may  be 
suggestive  to  the  reader.  To  the  reader  as  such  it  re- 
mains to  point  out  one  vital  matter  of  technique,  namely, 
the  relation  of  the  dramatic  dialogue  to  the  Masque's 
production. 

Even  more  than  a  play  [if  more  be  possible],  a  Masque 
is  not  a  realized  work  of  art  until  it  is  adequately  pro- 
duced. To  the  casual  reader,  this  Masque,  as  visualized 
merely  on  these  printed  pages,  may  appear  to  be  a  struc- 
ture simply  of  written  words:  in  reality  it  is  a  structure 
of  potential  interrelated  pantomime,  music,  dance,  light- 
ing, acting,  song  [choral  and  lyric],  scene  values,  stage 
management  and  spoken  words. 

Words  spoken,  then,  constitute  in  this  work  but  one 
of  numerous  elements,  all  relatively  important.  If  no 
word  of  the  Masque  be  heard  by  the  audience,  the  plot, 
action,  and  symbolism  will  still  remain  understandable 
and,  if  properly  produced,  dramatically  interesting. 
Synchronous  with  every  speech  occur,  in  production, 
effects  of  pantomime,  lighting,  music,  and  movement 
with  due  proportion  and  emphasis.  Such,  at  least,  is 
the  nature  of  the  technique  sought,  whether  or  not  this 
particular  work  attains  to  it. 

A  Masque  must  appeal  as  emphatically  to  the  eye  as  a 


xxiv  PREFACE 

moving  picture,  though  with  a  different  appeal  to  the 
imagination. 

Because  of  this  only  relative  value  of  the  spoken  word, 
there  are  many  producers  [theoretical  and  practical]  who 
believe  that  the  spoken  word  should  be  eliminated  en- 
tirely from  this  special  art  of  the  theatre. 

Artists  as  eminent  and  constructive  in  ideas  as  Gordon 
Craig,  and  many  whom  his  genius  has  inspired,  advocate 
indeed  this  total  elimination  of  speech  from  the  theatre's 
art  as  a  whole.  For  them  that  art  ideally  is  the  com- 
pound of  only  light  and  music  and  movement.  The 
reason  for  this,  I  think,  is  because  the  sensibility  of  those 
artists  is  preeminently  visual.  Moreover,  they  are  rela- 
tively inexpert,  as  artists,  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
technique  and  values  of  the  spoken  word.  Being  visu- 
ally expert  and  creative,  they  have,  by  their  practical 
genius,  established  a  world- wide  school  of  independent 
visual  art  [assisted  only  by  mass  sounds  of  music]. 

For  them  this  art  has  well  nigh  become  the  art  of  the 
theatre.  Yet  it  is  not  so,  I  think,  and  can  never  be  so, 
to  that  watching  and  listening  sensibility  for  which  all 
dramatic  art  is  created — the  soul  of  the  audience.  That 
soul,  our  soul,  is  a  composite  flowering  of  all  the  senses, 
and  the  life-long  record  of  the  spoken  word  [reiterated 
from  childhood]  is  an  integral,  yes,  the  most  intimate, 
element  of  our  consciousness. 

The  association  of  ideas  and  emotions  which  only  the 


PREFACE  xxv 

spoken  word  can  evoke  is,  therefore,  a  dramatic  value 
which  the  art  of  the  theatre  cannot  consistently  ignore. 
It  is  chiefly  because  those  artist-experts  in  word  values, 
the  poets,  who  might  contribute  their  special  technique 
to  the  theatre's  art,  turn  elsewhere  creatively,  that  the 
field  is  left  unchallenged  and  open  to  the  gifted  school  of 
the  visualists.  The  true  dramatic  art — which  involves 
ideally  a  total  cooperation — does  not,  and  cannot,  ex- 
clude the  poet-dramatist.  Shakespeare  and  Sophocles 
lived  before  electric  light;  if  they  had  lived  after,  they 
would  have  set  a  different  pace  for  Bakst  and  Reinhardt, 
and  established  a  creative  school  more  nobly  poised  in 
technique,  more  deeply  human  in  appeal. 

Now,  therefore,  when  the  poets  are  awaking  to  a  new 
power  and  control  of  expression,  here  especially  in  our 
own  country,  if  they  will  both  learn  and  teach  in  this 
larger  school,  there  rises  before  us  the  promise  of  an  art 
more  sensuous,  sane,  and  communal  than  the  theatre  has 
ever  known. 

So,  in  the  pioneering  adventure  of  this  Masque,  which 
seeks  by  experiment  to  relate  the  spoken  word  to  its 
larger  cooperation  with  the  visual  arts,  I  have  devised 
a  structure  in  which  the  English  language,  spoken  by 
actors,  is  an  essential  dramatic  value. 

Why,  then,  take  pains  [as  I  have  done]  to  make  it  rela- 
tively non-essential  in  case  it  should  not  be  heard? 

For  this  reason:  that  now — at  the  present  temporary 


xxvi  PREFACE 

and  still  groping  stage  of  development  of  community 
Masque  organization  and  production — there  can  be,  in 
the  nature  of  the  case,  no  complete  assurance  beforehand 
of  adequate  acoustics  in  setting,  or  of  voices  trained  to 
large-scale  outdoor  speech. 

But,  if  this  be  so,  would  it  not  be  the  wiser  part  of 
creative  valor  to  adapt  my  structure  wholly  to  these  ele- 
mentary conditions,  risk  nothing,  and  devise  simply  panto- 
mime? 

No,  for  by  that  principle  no  forward  step  for  the  spoken 
word  could  ever  be  taken.  //  we  are  to  progress  in  this 
new  art,  we  must  seek  to  make  producing  conditions  con- 
form to  the  spoken  play,  even  more  than  the  play  to  those 
conditions. 

And  this  can  be  done;  it  has  been  done. 

At  Saint  Louis  the  vast  amphitheatre  for  my  Masque 
was  at  first  considered,  by  nearly  all  who  saw  it,  to  be 
utterly  unsuited  to  the  spoken  word;  yet,  after  careful 
study,  experiment  and  technical  provision  for  its  use,  the 
speech  of  actors  was  heard  each  night  by  at  least  two- 
thirds  of  the  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  listeners.  Of  the 
seven  thousand  actors  only  about  fifteen  spoke,  but  these 
conveyed  the  spoken  symbolism  and  drama  of  the  action. 

In  the  present  Masque  I  have  focussed  the  spoken 
word  on  the  raised  constructed  stage  of  wood  [A.  and  B. 
in  the  Chart],  confined  it  to  the  speech  of  eight  principal 
acting  parts,  and  about  twenty  other  subordinate  parts, 


PREFACE  xxvii 

whose  speaking  lines  [from  Shakespeare's  plays]  are 
still  further  focussed  at  the  narrower  inner  stage  FA.  in 
the  Chart],  provided  with  special  sounding  boards. 

On  the  other  hand,  for  the  ground-circle  of  the  "Yellow 
Sands"  [C.  in  the  Chart],  where  the  thousands  of  partici- 
pants in  the  Interludes  take  part  under  an  open  sky,  I 
have  provided  no  spoken  words,  but  only  pantomime, 
mass  movements,  dances  and  choruses. 

To  the  reader,  then,  I  would  repeat,  that  the  words  of 
this  printed  Masque  are  an  essential,  though  not  an  ex- 
clusive, part  of  its  structure,  and  are  meant  primarily  to 
be  spoken,  not  primarily  to  be  read. 

As  in  the  case  of  my  Civic  Ritual  "The  New  Citizen- 
ship"1 this  Masque  can  only  have  its  completely  ade- 
quate production  on  a  large  and  elaborate  scale.  Like 
the  Civic  Ritual,  however,  which — originally  designed 
for  the  New  York  stadium — is  being  performed  on  an 
adapted  scale  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  in  schools 
and  elsewhere,  this  Masque  may  perhaps  serve  some  good 
purpose  in  being  made  available  for  performance  in  a 
smaller,  simpler  manner,  adapted  to  the  purposes  of 
festivals  during  this  year  of  Shakespeare's  Tercentenary. 
At  the  invitation,  therefore,  of  Mr.  Percival  Chubb, 
President  of  the  Drama  League  of  America,  who  first 
suggested  to  me  the  writing  of  a  Memorial  Masque  to 
Shakespeare,  the  publishers  have  made  arrangements 

:New  York,  1915,  Macmillan. 


xxviii  PREFACE 

with  officers  of  the  Drama  League  for  making  known  its 
availability  as  stated  in  their  announcement  printed  at 
the  back  of  this  volume. 

The  accompanying  stage-designs  are  the  work  of  Mr. 
Joseph  Urban,  the  eminent  Viennese  artist  and  producer 
[who  has  recently  become  an  American],  and  of  Mr. 
Robert  Edmond  Jones,  designer  of  the  scenes  and  cos- 
tumes for  Mr.  Granville  Barker's  production  of  "The 
Man  Who  Married  a  Dumb  Wife. " 

At  the  date  of  this  preface,  Mr.  Arthur  Farwell  has  near- 
ly completed  his  compositions  for  the  lyric  choruses  and 
incidental  music  of  the  Masque.  The  choruses  will  shortly 
be  made  available,  published  by  G.  Schirmer,  New  York. 

With  all  three  of  these  artists  I  am  fortunate  in 
being  associated  in  preparations  for  the  Masque's  New 
York  production  next  May. 

These  preparations  have  met  with  many  complex 
difficulties  of  launching  and  organization;  the  time  re- 
maining is  very  brief  to  accomplish  the  many-sided 
community  task  for  which  the  Masque  is  designed;  only 
the  merest  beginnings  of  so  vast  a  movement  can  be  at- 
tempted; but,  with  cooperation  and  support  from  those 
who  believe  in  that  task,  the  producers  look  forward 
hopefully  to  serving,  in  some  pioneering  degree,  the  great 
cause  of  community  expression  through  the  art  of  the 
theatre.  PERCY  MACKAYE. 

New  York,  February  22,  1916. 


MASQUE  STRUCTURE 


THE  ACTION 

The  action  takes  place,  symbolically,  on  three  planes:  [i]  in  the  cave 
of  Sebetos  [before  and  after  its  transformation  into  the  theatre  of  Pros- 
pero];  [2]  in  the  mind  of  Prospero  [behind  the  Cloudy  Curtains  of  the 
inner  stage];  and  [3]  on  the  ground-circle  of  "the  Yellow  Sands"  [the 
place  of  historic  time]. 

THE  TIME 

The  Masque  Proper  is  concerned,  symbolically,  with  no  literal  period 
of  tune,  but  with  the  waxing  and  waning  of  the  life  of  dramatic  art  [and 
its  concomitant,  civilization]  from  primitive  barbaric  times  to  the  verge 
of  the  living  present. 

The  Interludes  are  concerned  with  ritualistic  glimpses  of  the  art  of  the 
theatre  [in  its  widest,  communal  scope]  during  three  historical  periods: 
[i]  Antiquity,  [2]  the  Middle  Ages,  and  [3]  Elizabethan  England. 

The  Epilogue  is  concerned  with  the  creative  forces  of  dramatic  art 
from  antiquity  to  the  present,  and — by  suggestion — with  the  future  of 
those  forces. 

THE  SETTING 

The  setting  of  the  entire  Masque  is  architectural  and  scenic,  not  a 
background  of  natural  landscape  as  in  the  case  of  most  outdoor  pageants. 
Being  constructed  technically  for  performance,  on  a  large  scale,  by  night 
only,  its  basic  appeals  are  to  the  eye,  through  expert  illusions  of  light 
and  darkness,  architectural  and  plastic  line,  the  dance,  color,  and  pag- 
eantry of  group  movements;  to  the  ear,  through  invisible  choirs  and 

xxix 


xxx  MASQUE  STRUCTURE 

orchestra,  stage  instrumental  music  and  voices  of  visible  mass-choruses 
[in  the  Interludes  only]. 

As  indicated  by  the  accompanying  diagram  [Time  Chart]*  of  its  Inner 
Structure,  the  Masque  Proper  is  enacted  by  a  comparatively  few  [about 
thirty]  professional  actors,  who  use  the  spoken  word  to  motivate  the  large- 
scale  pantomime  of  their  action;  the  Interludes  [which  use  no  spoken 
word,  but  only  dance,  pageantry,  miming,  and  choruses]  are  performed 
by  community  participants  [to  the  number  of  thousands];  the  Epilogue 
utilizes  both  kinds  of  performers. 

Corresponding  to  this  Inner  Structure,  the  Outer  Structure  consists 
of  three  architectural  planes  or  acting  stages  [all  interdependent]:  [i] 
a  modified  form  of  Elizabethan  stage,  [here  called  "the  Middle  Stage — 
B  "]  consisting  of  a  raised  platform  [to  which  steps  lead  up  from  a  ground- 
circle,  eight  feet  below]  provided  with  a  smaller,  curtained  Inner  Stage 
[A — under  a  balcony,  on  which  the  upper  visions  appear,  and  above  which 
the  concealed  orchestra  and  choirs  are  located].  This  Inner  Stage  is  two 
feet  higher  than  the  Middle  Stage,  from  which  ramps  lead  up  to  it. 
Shutting  it  off  from  the  other,  its  "Cloudy  Curtains,"  when  closed,  meet 
at  the  centre;  when  they  are  open,  the  inner  Shakespearean  scenes 
[visions  in  the  mind  of  Prospero]  are  then  revealed  within. 

Between  the  raised  Middle  Stage  and  the  audience  lies  the  Ground- 
Circle — in  form  like  the  "orchestra"  of  a  Greek  theatre.  Here  the  com- 
munity Interludes  take  place  around  a  low  central  Altar,  from  which 
rises  a  great  hour-glass,  flowing  with  luminous  sands.  This  ground- 
circle  is  the  place  of  the  Yellow  Sands,  the  outer  wave-lines  of  which  are 
bordered  by  the  deep  blue  of  the  space  beyond.  The  circle  itself,  repre- 
senting the  magic  isle  of  Prospero  [the  temporal  place  of  his  art],  is 
mottled  with  shadowy  contours  of  the  continents  of  the  world. 

Beneath  the  middle  stage,  and  between  the  broad  spaces  of  the  steps 
which  lead  up  to  it  from  the  ground-circle,  is  situated,  at  centre,  the 
mouth  of  Caliban's  cell,  which  thus  opens  directly  upon  the  Yellow 
Sands. 

All  of  these  features  of  the  setting,  however,  are  invisible  when  the 
Masque  begins,  and  are  only  revealed  as  the  lightings  of  the  action  dis- 
close them. 


*See  Appendix,  page  154. 


GRCUNDfW 


FOR-flVJDITORlUn  flNDSTflGE 
OF-,5H/WESPE/mE-  MASQUE' 


PERSONS  AND  PRESENCES 

/.  OF  THE  MASQUE  PROPER1 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
ARIEL 
SYCORAX2 
CALIBAN 
PROSPERO 
MIRANDA 
LUST 
DEATH 
WAR 

CALIGULA  [Impersonated  by  Lust] 
ONE  IN  GRAY  [Impersonated  by  Death] 
ANOTHER  IN  GRAY  [Impersonated  by  Caliban] 

MUTE  PRESENCES 
SETEBOS3 

CHORAL  PRESENCES 
SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
POWERS  OF  SETEBOS 

PANTOMIME  GROUPS 
LUST  GROUP 
DEATH  GROUP 

WAR  GROUP  )>  Impersonated  by  the  Powers  of  Setebos 

ROMAN  GROUP 
THE  ONES  IN  GRAY 
TRANSFORMATION  CHOIR  } 

GREGORIAN  CHOIR  >  Impersonated  by  the  Spirits  of  Ariel 

THE  ONES  IN  GREEN       / 
THE  NINE  MUSES 
RENAISSANCE  FAUNS 


iThe  Masque  Proper  consists  of  the  Prologue  and  Three  Acts,  without  the  Inner 
Scenes  and  the  Epilogue  and  Interludes. 

2  Visualized  by  a  Super-puppet. 
'Visualized  by  an  idol. 

TXXi 


xxxii  PERSONS  AND  PRESENCES 

II.  OF  THE  TEN  INNER-STAGE  SCENES 

[Enacted  by  the  Spirits  of  Ariel.} 
SEE  APPENDIX:  Pages  159-161. 

Of  these  scenes  eight  are  spoken  scenes  taken  from  plays  of  Shakespeare;  one 
(the  sixth)  is  a  pantomime  devised  from  a  descriptive  speech  in  "  Henry 
the  Eighth,"  Act  I,  Scene  I;  one  (the  fourth)  is  a  tableau  scene  symbolic  of  the 
early  Christian  Church.  Those  taken  from  Shakespeare  are  printed  in  black-faced 
type. 

III.    OF  THE  INTERLUDES 

SEE  APPENDIX:  Pages  162,  166,  172,  184,  187,  190,  195. 

IV.    OF  THE  EPILOGUE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
THE  SPIRIT  OF  TIME 
SHAKESPEARE  [as  Prospero] 

PANTOMIME  GROUPS* 
THEATRES  [with  Musicians,  Dancers,  Designers,  Producers,  Inventors 

etc.:  Creators  of  the  art  of  the  theatre] 
ACTORS 
DRAMATISTS 
SPIRIT  TRUMPETERS  [Announcers  of  the  Groups] 


*See  Appendix:  Pages  207-216. 


CALIBAN 


CALIBAN 

PROLOGUE 

The  action  begins  in  semi-darkness,  out  of  which 
sound  invisible  choirs. 

The  scene  is  the  cave  of  SETEBOS,  whose  stark- 
colored  idol — half  tiger  and  half  toad — colossal  and 
primitive — rises  at  centre  above  a  stone  altar. 

On  the  right ,  the  cave  leads  inward  to  the  abode  of 
SYCORAX;  on  the  left,  it  leads  outward  to  the  sea,  a 
blue- green  glimpse  of  which  is  vaguely  visible. 

High  in  the  tiger-jaws  of  the  idol,  ARIEL — a  slim, 
winged  figure,  half  nude — is  held  fettered. 

In  the  dimness,  he  listens  to  deep-bellowing  choirs 
from  below,  answered  by  a  chorus  of  sweet  shrill  voices 
from  within. 

THE  VOICES  FROM  BELOW 

[Sing] 

Setebos!    Setebos! 

THE  VOICES  FROM  WITHIN 
[Sing] 

Ariel! 

3 


4  CALIBAN 

ARIEL 

[Calls  aloud.] 

O,  my  brave  spirits! 

THE  VOICES  FROM  BELOW 
Setebos !    Setebos  ! 
Over  us  which  art,  and  under: 

Fang  of  fire 
From  mouth  of  thunder  ! 

Hungering  goad 

From  belly  of  mire  ! 

Tiger  and  toad — 

Setebos! 

Blood  which  art  on  the  jungle  bloom, 
Sloth  and  slumber  and  seed  in  the  womb: 

Which  art  wondrous 

Over  and  under  us, 
Setebos!    Setebos!     Thou  art  Setebos f 

THE  VOICES  FROM  WITHIN 

Sealed  in  a  starless  cell, 

We  are  shut  from  dawn  and  sky. 
Ariel ! — Ariel ! 

Why? 

ARIEL 

Setebos  knows,  but  his  jaws 
Fetter  me  fast:  he  is  dumb — 
Answering  never. 


CALIBAN  5 

THE  VOICES  FROM  WITHIN 

We,  who  parch  for  dew  and  star — 

Ariel ! — Ariel  !— 
Must  we  perish  where  we  are  ? 
Tell! 

ARIEL 

Sycorax  knows,  but  she  sits 
There  in  the  cave  with  her  son — 
Mocking  us  ever. 

THE  VOICES  FROM  WITHIN 
Ariel ! 

ARIEL 

Call  me  no  more, 

Lest  they  torment  us.     I  hear  them 
Coming  now. 

THE  VOICE  OF  SYCORAX 
Caliban! 

ARIEL 
Hush! 

[Gigantic,  the  twisted  form  of  SYCORAX  looms  from 
within  the  rock.] 

SYCORAX 

[Catting  toward  the  sea] 
Come,  fish-fowl!    Leave  thy  flapping  in  the  mud 


6  CALIBAN 

And  keep  thy  father's  temple.     Call  his  priests. 
Thy  father  Toad's  a  god,  hath  double  teeth 
In  his  two  heads.     The  Tiger  loins  of  him 
Begot  thee  in  my  belly  for  a  cub 
To  lick  his  paws  and  purr,  else  he  may  pinch  thee 
Behind  an  eye-tooth,  like  yon  flitter  mouse 
That  hangs  there  wriggling. 

THE  VOICE  OF  CALIBAN 

So,  so  Sycorax!— 
Coming! 

SYCORAX 

Aye,  so  so:  crawling  still! 

[Malformed  and  hissing,  CALIBAN  enters  on  his  belly 
and  arms} 

CALIBAN 

Syc-Syco- 
Sycorax!    See! 

SYCORAX 

What  hast  thou  got  thee? 

CALIBAN 

[Laughs,  half  rising,  and  holds  up  a  wriggling  crea- 
ture] 

Got 
A  little  god — a  little  Caliban. 


CALIBAN  7 

Ha! — make   him    out    of    mud.     See:  Squeezed   it 

round 
And  slipped  him  through  my  fist-hole.    Am  a  god: 

[Rising] 

See  Sycorax — her  grandchild ! 

SYCORAX 

'Tis  an  eel-worm. 
Fling  him  to  the  white  bat  yonder. 

[Her  form  vanishes  in  the  rock.] 

CALIBAN 
[Approaching  the  idol.] 

Ariel, 

Here's  food  for  thee :  a  wormling  for  thy  beak. 
So,  my  trapped  bird: — How  sayst,  ha? 

ARIEL 
[Sings.] 

"  Where  the  bee  sucks  there  suck  I" 

CALIBAN 

[Laughing} 

Bee,  sayst  thou? 
Still  buzzest  of  thy  wings,  and  eatest — air! 

ARIEL 

[Sings] 

"In  a  cowslip's  bell  I  lie.'1 


8  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

My  father's  gullet  is  no  cowslip's  bell. 
Shalt  lie  in  the  belly  of  Setebos. 

[Tossing  away  the  eel} 

— What  waitest  for? 

ARIEL 
I  am  waiting  for  one  who  will  come. 

CALIBAN 

Aye?   Who  will  come? 

ARIEL 

One  from  the  heart  of  the  world;  and  he  shall  rise 
On  tempest  of  music  and  in  thunder  of  song. 

CALIBAN 

[Gaping} 

Thunder  and  tempest — so! 

ARIEL 
[With  ecstasy.] 

I  see  him  now. 

CALIBAN 

[Crouching  back.] 

See  him!    Where,  now? 


CALIBAN  9 

ARIEL 

In  my  dream : — He  bears 
A  star-wrought  staff  and  hooded  cloak  of  blue, 
And  on  his  right  hand  burns  the  sun,  and  on 
His  left,  the  moon;  and  these  he  makes  his  masks 
Of  joy  and  sorrow. 

CALIBAN 
Where?    Mine  eye  seeth  naught. 

ARIEL 

Before  him  comes  a  maid — a  child,  all  wonder — 
And  leads  him  to  this  blighted  isle. 

CALIBAN 

What  for,  here? 

ARIEL 

To  set  me  free,  and  all  my  air-born  spirits 
Whom  Setebos  holds  prisoned  in  this  earth. 

CALIBAN 
Free?    What's  that— free? 

ARIEL 

What  thou  canst  never  be 
Who  never  shalt  dance  with  us  by  yellow  sands. 


io  CALIBAN 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
[Sing  within} 

"Come  unto  these  yellow  sands, 

And  then  take  hands: 
Courtsied  when  you  have  and  kiss'd 

The  wild  waves  whist. 
Foot  itfeatly  here  and  there" — 

CALIBAN 

Ho,  blast  their  noises!     Stop  thy  spirits'  squealing. 
Their  piping  itcheth  me  like  hornets'  stings. 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
[Sing  on,  within} 

"And,  sweet  sprites,  the  burthen  bear" — 

CALIBAN 

[Screaming.] 

Setebos!     Squash  'em! 

POWERS  OF  SETEBOS 

[Sing  below  with  strident  roarings,  drowning  the  song 
of  Ariel's  Spirits] 

Setebos!    Setebos!     Thou  art  Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

[Exulting  grotesquely] 

Who'll  dance  by  yellow  sands? — Who's  free  now, 
spirit? 


CALIBAN  ii 

Ho,  Caliban  can  squash  their  music.     Free? 
Aren'jt  I  a  god,  bitch-born,  the  son  of  Setebos 
Can  howl  all  hell  up?     Worship  me,  thou  wings! 
Praise  my  toad- father  in  his  temple! 

ARIEL 

The  priests 

Of  Setebos  are  Lust  and  Death  and  War. 
Not  Ariel — nor  Ariel's  Spirits  ever— 
Shall  do  them  honor.     One  shall  come  hereafter 
Whom  we  now  worship,  waiting. 

CALIBAN 
[Roaring.] 

Sycorax ! 
SYCORAX 

[Reappearing.] 

Swallow  thy  croakings,  bullfrog.     Call  the  priests, 
And  fill  this  spirit's  nostrils  with  the  reek 
Of  Setebos,  his  blood-rites. 

THE  SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
[Cry  out  piercingly.] 

Ariel! 

ARIEL 

Peace,  my  brave  hearts!    Be  dumb — but  still  be 
dreaming! 


12  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Powers  of  Setebos! — Lust,  Death,  War, — ho,  nowl 
Hither,  and  do  my  father  worship! 

ARIEL 

[Stifling  a  cry} 

Ah! 

[Enter  LUST,  DEATH,  and  WAR,  arrayed  as  priests 
of  Setebos] 

SYCORAX 
[To  Caliban] 

Come,  toad-boy :  watch  with  me,  within. 
CALIBAN 

[Going  within  the  cave,  as  Sycorax  disappears] 

Free,  saith? 
Will  dance  by  yellow  sands?— Now,  Spirit,  dance! 

[As  Caliban  goes  within,  the  powers  of  Setebos  come  forth. 

At  the  altar  beneath  Ariel,  the  three  Priests  lead 
them  in  ceremonial  rites  of  primeval  pageantry 
and  dance — the  sacrificial  worship  of  Setebos. 
Above  them  Ariel  suffers,  with  closed  eyes.  In 
their  rites,  Lust  pours  his  libation,  and  lights  the 
altar  fire,  which — when  War  has  made  there  his 
living  sacrifice — Death  extinguishes  in  darkness. 

Through  the  dark,  which  gradually  changes  to  a 
glowing  dusk,  Ariel  speaks  aloud] 


CALIBAN  13 

ARIEL 

O  Spirits,  I  have  dreamed,  but  Death  has  closed 
My  sight  in  darkness.     Spirits,  I  have  begotten 
Sweet  Joy,  but  Lust  hath  drowned  her  in  his  wine. 
Yea,  I  have  wove  Love  wings,  but  War  hath  robbed 

them 

And  riven  his  lovely  body  all  alive 
To  feed  the  hungering  flames  of  Setebos. 
My  Spirits,  I  your  master  am  unmastered. 
Speak  to  me!    Comfort  me!    Is  there  no  joy, 
No  love,  no  dream,  that  shall  survive  this  dark? 
Hath  this  our  isle  no  king  but  Caliban? 
Are  there  no  yellow  sands  where  we  shall  dance 
To  greet  the  master  of  a  timeless  dawn? 
Or  must  there  break  no  morning? — Ah,  you  are  dumb 
Still  to  my  doubtings.    Yet  the  dark  grows  pale, 
And,  paling,  pulses  now  with  rosier  shadows; 
And  now  the  shadows  tremble,  and  draw  back 
Their  trailing  glories:  hark!    All  little  birds 
Wake  in  the  gloaming:  look!    What  young  Aurora 
Walks  in  the  dusk  below,  and  like  a  child 
Turns  her  quick  face  to  listen? — Ah ! 

[Below,  against  the  light  from  the  sea,  has  entered  the 
dim  Figure  he  descries.} 

THE  FIGURE 

Who  calls? 


14  CA.LIBAN 

ARIEL 

Spirits,  'tis  she!     O,  we  have  dreamed  her  true 
At  last — Miranda! 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
[Call,  in  echoing  song.] 

Miranda  1 

MIRANDA 
[Searching  with  her  eyes.] 

Earth  and  air 
Echo  my  name.     Who  calls  me? 

ARIEL 

Ariel. 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
[As  before.] 

Ariel! 

MIRANDA 

Light  and  dark  spin  webs  around  me. 
What  art  thou,  voice — and  where? 

ARIEL 

Here — and  your  servant. 

MIRANDA 

[Beholding  him.] 

O  me! — poor  Spirit! — What  mouth  so  terrible 
Utters  a  voice  so  tender? 


CALIBAN  15 

ARIEL 

Setebos, 
God  of  this  isle,  holds  me  in  's  fangs. 

MIRANDA 

But  why? 
ARIEL 

I  will  not  serve  him. 

MIRANDA 
[Naively,  drawing  nearer  to  the  huge  idol} 

Setebos,  be  kind. 
Release  this  Spirit. 

ARIEL 

He  hath  nor  ears,  nor  eyes, 
Nor  any  sense  to  know  thee  by,  but  only 
These  tusks  and  claws  and  his  toad-belly. 

MIRANDA 

Dost 
Thou  suffer,  so? 

ARIEL 

Not  now. 

MIRANDA 

And  hath  he  held  thee 
Long  captive? 


16  CALIBAN 

ARIEL 

Since  old  ocean's  slime  first  spawned 
Under  the  moon,  I  have  awaited  thee 
And  him  thou  bringest  here. 

MIRANDA 

You  mean  my  father, 
Prospero. 

ARIEL 
[Exultingly.] 

Hail  him,  Spirits! 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
[Sing.] 

Prospero  ! 

MIRANDA 

Yea,  many  a  starry  journey  we  have  made 
Searching  this  isle.     At  last  to-day,  at  dawn, 
I  saw  its  yellow  sands,  and  heard  thy  voice 
Calling  for  pity.     Now  my  father  is  come 
And  shall  release  thee. 

ARIEL 

Where?    Where  is  he? 

MIRANDA 

Here: 

His  cloak  is  round  us  now :  he  holds  us  now 


CALIBAN  17 

In  his  great  art,  revealing  each  to  each 
Though  he  be  all  invisible. 

[Reenteringj    Caliban    comes  forward,    sniffing    and 
peering  at  Miranda} 

CALIBAN 

Hath  feet 

And  hair:  hath  bright  hair  shineth  like  a  fish's  tail; 
Hath  mouth,  and  maketh  small,  sweet  noises. 

ARIEL 
[Crying  out] 

Beast, 
Go  back! 

MIRANDA 

[Staring,  amazed] 

What's  here? 

CALIBAN 

Ca — Caliban;  cometh  here 
To  smell  what  'tis. 

[He  sniffs  nearer;  then  howls  strangely] 

Spring  in  the  air:  Oho  I 

MIRANDA 
Alas,  poor  creature !    Who  hath  hurt  thee? 


i8  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Hurt? 

Who  hurteth  God?    Am  seed  of  Setebos : 
Am  Caliban:  the  world  is  all  mine  isle: 
Kill  what  I  please,  and  play  with  what  I  please; 
So,  yonder,  play  with  him :  pull  out  his  wings 
And  put  'em  back  to  grow. — Where  be  thy  wings, 
Spring-i'-the-air? 

MIRANDA 

O  Ariel,  is  this  sight 
A  true  thing,  and  speaks  truly? 

ARIEL 

What  you  hear 
And  see — 'tis  my  master. 

MIRANDA 

Tis  so  wonderful 
I  know  not  how  to  be  sad. 

CALIBAN 

[In  puzzled  fascination,  staring  at  Miranda.] 

The  moon  hath  a  face 
And  smile th  on  the  lily  pools,  but  hath 
No  lily  body  withal:  thy  body  is 
All  lilies  and  the  smell  of  lily  buds, 
And  thy  round  face  a  pool  of  moonbeams! 


CALIBAN  19 

MIRANDA 

[With  smile  and  laughter.] 

Nay, 
Then  look  not  in,  lest  thou  eclipse  the  moon. 

CALIBAN 

Syc — Sycorax  hath  no  such  laughing:  soundeth 
Like  little  leaves  F  the  rain !     Hath  no  such  mouth 
Bright-lipp'd  with  berries  ripe  to  suck  i'  the  sun— 

Sycorax. 

MIRANDA 

Who  is  Sycorax? 

ARIEL 
Ah,  pain! 

CALIBAN 

Ho,  she  that  hath  calved  Caliban  to  the  bull 
Setebos,  my  blood-sire.     [Pauses  at  a  glowing  thought, 
then  cries  with  sudden  exultance:]     So  shall  us  twain 
Caliban  all  this  world! 

[He  crouches,  then  rolls  over  at  her  feet.] 

—Laugh,  Spring-i'-the-air! 
Lift  so  thy  lily-pad  foot  and  rub  his  ear 
Where  the  fur  tickleth,  and  let  thy  Caliban 
Tongue-lick  its  palm. 

[He  lies,  dog-like,  on  his  back,  and  laughs  loud.] 


20  CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

This  wonder  grows  too  wild. 

ARIEL 
Go,  go!    0  flee  away! 

CALIBAN 

[Leaping  up} 

Away? — Aye,  so! 

[He  approaches  Miranda,  who  recoils,  half  fearful.} 
Wist  where  salt  water  lappeth  warm  i'  the  noon 
And  shore-fish  breed  i'  the  shoals. — Wist  where  the 

sea-bull 

Flap-flappeth  his  fin  and  walloweth  there  his  cow 
And  snoreth  the  rainbow  from  his  nostrils. 

[He  begins  to  dance  grotesquely  about  her} 

Ho, 

Spring-i'-the-air!  shalt  leap,  shalt  roll  in  the  sun, 
Shalt  dance  with  lily-warm  limbs,  shalt  race  wi'  the 

gulls! 
Shalt  laugh,  and  call — Come,  Come! 

Come,  come,  Caliban! 

Catcheth  who  catcheth  can ! 

Mateth  mew,  mateth  man: 

Catch,  come,  Caliban! 

ARIEL 
0  Setebos,  let  me  go  free! 


CALIBAN  21 

MIRANDA 

[To  Caliban.] 

Peace!    Dance  no  more. 
Go  hence,  and  leave  me. 

CALIBAN 

[Staring.] 

Hence?    Aye,  both — us  twain. 
MIRANDA 
[With  simple  command.] 

Nay,  thou  alone. 

CALIBAN 

[With  narrowing  eyes,  draws  nearer.] 
Saith  what? 

MIRANDA 
[Unafraid.] 

Go  from  me. 
CALIBAN 

[Stops,  with  a  hissing  growl.] 

Syc- 
Syc-  Sycorax !    Sycorax ! 

SYCORAX 

[Reappearing.] 

Mole  in  the  mire,  wilt  squeak 
When  thou  art  trod  on?— Bite!  Bite,  Setebos'  son! 
Let  the  brave  wonder  breed  of  thee. 


22  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Aye,  mother. 
[With  rising  passion — to  Miranda.] 

A  child !     Shalt  bear  me  such  as  thou,  with  head 
Of  Caliban :  no  eel- worm,  nay — a  wonder, 
With  IHy  feet,  that  walk.    Ho,  Setebos ! 

SYCORAX 
Setebos !    Mate  them  at  thine  altar. 

MIRANDA 

[Fleeing  from  Caliban,  pauses  in  terror  of  Sycorax.] 

Save  me! 
POWERS  OF  SETEBOS 

[Sing  within.] 

Setebos!    Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

[Rushing  toward  Miranda.] 

Mine! 

MIRANDA 

Save  me,  father! 

ARIEL 

[Calling  shrilly.] 

Prosperol 


CALIBAN  23 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
[Sing  within.] 

Prospero!  Hail! 

[A  clap  of  thunder  strikes,  rolling,  in  sudden  dark- 
ness. Lightnings  burst  from  the  idol  of  Setebos. 
From  the  flashing  gloom,  choruses  of  contending 
spirits  commingle  the  roar  of  their  deep  bass  and 
high-pitched  choirs.] 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 

Prospero!    Prospero  I 
Out  of  our  earth-pain 
Raise  and  array  us 
In  splendor  of  order! 
Pour  on  our  chaos — 
Prospero !    Prospero ! — 
Peace  to  our  earth-pain! 

POWERS  OF  SETEBOS 

Setebos  !    Setebos ! 

Lord  of  our  earth-bane, 
Loose  on  his  wrath  way 

The  beast  of  thy  jungle! 
Pour  on  our  pathway — 
Setebos  !    Setebos  ! 

Blood  for  thine  earth-bane! 

[Amid  the  tempestuous  song,  darkness,  and  thunder, 
appears  on  the  left  a  glowing,  winged  throne.  On 


24  CALIBAN 

the  throne  sits  PROSPERO — in  one  hand,  a  scroll; 
in  the  other,  a  miraculous  staff.] 

PROSPERO 

[Raising  his  staff.] 

Darkness,  be  light! — Tempest,  be  calm! — Miranda! 

[The  scene  grows  light,  and  is  still.] 

MIRANDA 
[At  the  steps  of  the  throne.] 

Father! 

PROSPERO 
Come  to  me,  child. 
[As  she  mounts  to  him  gladly.] 

Sit  here  beside  me. 

[She  sits  at  his  feet,  nestling  in  the  folds  of  his  great 
garment.] 

My  cloak  and  staff  protect  thee. 

MIRANDA 

[Raising  her  eyes  in  dread.] 

But  the  wild  thing? 

PROSPERO 
Must  be  transformed. — Caliban! 


CALIBAN  25 

CALIBAN 

[Crouching  at  the  centre,  howls  terribly} 

Setebos — sire! 
Sycorax — mother!      Hast  swallowed  them.      Lord 

Thunder, 
Strike  us  no  more ! 

PROSPERO 

I  strike  no  more  till  time 

Hath  need  of  thunder.     Rise  now  and  be  tamed, 
Howler  at  Heaven. 

CALIBAN 
[Rising,  bewildered] 

Tamed,  saith?    What  shall  it  be- 
That  "tamed?" 

PROSPERO 

That  shalt  thou  learn  of  Ariel. 
Now — Ariel! 

[He  looks  toward  Ariel,  still  held  in  the  mouth  of  Setebos. 
Sycorax  lies  heaped  and  still  by  the  altar.] 

ARIEL 

[Joyously] 

Master! 

PROSPERO 
Sycorax,  lo,  'tis  dead. 


26  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 
[With  wailing  cry.] 

Ah— yo! 

PROSPERO 

The  will  of  Setebos  is  matched  with  mine 

To  rule  our  world.     Time  shall  award  the  prize — 

Mine  own  Miranda — to  his  power  or  mine. 

His  might  is  awful,  but  mine  art  is  deep 

To  foil  his  power  and  exalt  mine  own. 

Ariel,  thy  spirits  shall  help  me. 

ARIEL 

Master,  how? 

PROSPERO 

Thou,  long  time  artless,  now  shalt  learn  mine  art 

To  win  my  goal — Miranda's  freedom.     Never 

Till  this  immortal  Caliban  shall  rise 

To  lordly  reason,  can  Miranda  hold 

Her  maiden  gladness  undismayed.     For  that 

I  will  release  thee  from  those  fangs 

Of  Setebos. 

ARIEL 

For  that,  dear  master,  I  have  waited 
Long  ages,  dreaming. 

PROSPERO 

So,  wilt  give  thy  promise 
To  learn  of  me,  and  teach  this  monster  here? 


CALIBAN  27 

ARIEL 

O  set  me  free  to  be  thy  servant  ever. 
Master,  I  promise! 

PROSPERO 

Fly!    Run  free! — Unfang  him, 
Setebos! 

[Prospero  raises  his  staff. 

Slowly  the  tiger -jaws  of  the  Idol  open  their  fangs. 
Ariel,  with  a  joyous  cry,  slips  into  the  air,  and — 
as  he  floats  fluttering  to  the  earth — his  unseen 
choir  of  Spirits  sing  with  shrilly  gladness:} 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
Prospero  !    Prospero  I    Hail  1 

ARIEL 
[Dancing  on  the  earth.] 

Free!    Free! 
MIRANDA 
[Eagerly.] 

O,  now  his  fettered  Spirits:  Free  them  too! 

PROSPERO 

Well  urged,  my  own  Miranda. — Setebos, 
Disgorge  these  long-embowelled  choirs! — Spirits, 
Come  forth! 

[Again  Prospero  raises  his  staff. 
Yawning  enormous,  the  toad-mouth  of  the  Idol,  filled 
with  green  and  blue  light,  widens  to  a  lurid  aperture 


28  CALIBAN 

out  of  which  come  forth — dancing — the  star-bright 
Spirits  of  Ariel. 
As  they  come,  Ariel — springing  toward  Caliban — cries 

exultingly:] 

ARIEL 

Now,  Caliban,  we  dance  by  yellow  sands! 

[Singing  as  they  rush  forth,  the  Spirits  dart  with  Ariel 
swiftly  about  the  grovelling  Caliban  and  chase  him9 
dodging  and  whining,  down  the  steps  to  the  ground- 
circle,  mottled  with  its  shadowy  continents  of  the 
world,  and  rimmed  with  its  long,  yellow  wave-lines.] 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 
uCome  unto  these  yellow  sands, 

And  then  take  hands: 
Courtsied  when  you  have  and  kiss'd 

The  wild  waves  whist. 
Foot  itfeatly  here  and  there 
And,  sweet  sprites,  the  burthen  bear: 
Hark,  hark! 

Bow-wow ! 
The  watch-dogs  bark: 

Bow-wow  ! 
Hark,  hark !    I  hear 
The  strain  of  strutting  chanticleer 

Cry:  cock-a-diddle-dow!" 

[Encircling  Caliban  in  their  dance,  and  pelting  him  with 
bright  handfuls  of  the  yellow  sands,  they  tease  and 


CALIBAN  29 

drive  him  howling  into  his  cave  cell,  where  his  dark, 
monstrous  shape  silhouettes  for  a  moment  on  the 
orange-red  glow,  then  vanishes  within. 

As  he  disappears,  to  their  last  "Bow-wow!" 
and  "Cock-a-diddle-dow!",  they  hasten  back  above 
to  Ariel,  who  leads  them  before  Prospero.] 

ARIEL 
The  beast  is  routed,  Master.    Was  't  well  done? 

PROSPERO 

The  routed  beast — returns.     I  charge  thee,  Spirit, 
Not  to  torment,  but  teach  him — for  which  task 
Thou  wilt  require  mine  art.     So  by  its  power 
We  will  transform  this  cave  of  Setebos 
To  be  a  temple  to  Miranda.    Now 
Let  these  thy  Spirits  lead  her  to  her  shrine 
Yonder,  where  all  her  maiden  Muses  wait 
To  make  her  welcome. 

[Prospero  points  to  where,  on  the  right,  appears  Mi- 
randa's shrine.  From  its  portals  come  forth  the 
Nine  Muses,  bearing  lutes  and  pipes.  Prospero, 
turning  to  Miranda,  rises  and  gives  her  into  ArieVs 
care.] 

Child,  go  with  them  now 
And  tarry  till  I  summon. 


30  CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

Sir,  I  will. 

I  thank  you  and  these  Spirits,  and  may  we  all 
Be  saved  from  Setebos. 

ARIEL 

Sweet  Mistress,  follow! 

[To  a  melodious  luting  and  piping  played  by  the 
Muses,  Ariel  and  his  Spirits  escort  Miranda  to  the 
centre,  where  the  Muses  meet  and  conduct  her  into 
the  shrine,  while  Ariel's  Spirits — at  a  gesture  from 
him — dart  through  the  centre  of  the  Cloudy  Cur- 
tains and  disappear} 

PROSPERO 
[Calling] 

Now  hither,  bird,  and  perch! 

ARIEL 
[Running  to  him,  on  the  throne] 

Beside  you,  Master! 
PROSPERO 

[Pointing  to  the  ground-circle] 

Seest  yonder  Yellow  Sands?    There  sleep  the  shores, 
The  cloudy  capes  and  continents  of  time; 
There  wane  and  wax  eternal  tides,  that  mark 
The  ebb  and  flow  of  empires  with  their  foam. 
There  shalt  thou  see  the  million-colored  skein 


CALIBAN  31 

Whereof  I  weave  mine  art.     Look  well  and  learn! 
For  this  my  art  is  of  no  only  land 
Or  age,  but  born  of  all — itself  a  world 
Snatched  from  the  womb  of  History,  to  survive 
Its  mortal  mother  in  imagination.— 
Dost  thou  attend  me? 

ARIEL 

Word  and  will,  dear  Master! 

[At  the  mouth  of  Caliban's  cell  are  now  visible  Lust, 
Death,  and  War,  who  in  pantomime  indicate  to 
Caliban  their  conspiracy  against  Prospero  and 
Ariel] 

PROSPERO 

'Tis  well,  for  thou  must  prove  my  pupil.     Look! 
Even  now  the  priests  of  Setebos  conspire 
With  Caliban  against  us.     They  will  compass 
My  fall,  Miranda's  ruin,  and  thy  bondage 
Unless  mine  art  can  foil  them.    Therefore,  now 
Thou  shalt  behold  the  pageant  of  mine  art 
Pace  from  antiquity.     First,  while  yon  glass 
Lets  flow  its  yellow  sands,  behold  appear 
My  rites  of  ancient  Egypt,  Greece,  and  Rome, 
And,  while  they  pass,  I  will  instruct  thee  how 
To  use  them. — Pageant,  appear! 

[4  deep  gong  sounds] 

Lo, Egypt  comes! 


FIRST  INTERLUDE* 

Now  in  succession  through  the  great  gates  of  the 
ground-circle,  in  colorful  incursions  of  costume  and 
music,  appear  three  main  pageant  groups,  that  perform 
—with  distinctive  artistry  of  dance,  pantomime,  mass 
movement,  and  choral  song — three  ritual  episodes  of  the 
dramatic  art  of  antiquity.  The  nature  of  each,  by  a 
few  brief  sentences,  Prosper o  expounds  to  Ariel,  and  so 
to  the  audience.  Concluding,  each  group  of  the  first 
two  departs  from  the  circle. 

The  first  Action — a  symbolic  ritual  of  Egypt — enters 
in  seven  separate  processions,  which  converge  at  the  centre 
in  worship  of  the  golden  god  Osiris. 

The  second  group — expressing  the  noble  zenith  of 
Greek  dramatic  art — chants,  with  aspiring,  athletic 
dance,  the  second  chorus  of  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles, 
celebrating  the  splendor  of  man.  This  Action  is  per- 
formed by  the  altar. 

With  the  third  enters  a  contrasted  decadence  of  the 
theatre's  art  with  the  Roman  Mimes,  who  enact  a  farcical 


*The  more  detailed  description  of  this  Interlude  is  given  in  the  Ap- 
pendix, pages  162  to  183. 

32 


CALIBAN  33 

Comedy  in  Masks,  in  presence  of  the  emperor  Caligula 
and  the  Roman  populace.  Concluding,  this  Roman 
group  does  not  depart,  but  retiring  into  partial  shadow 
on  the  right,  awaits  there  its  later  summons. 


ACT  I 

[As  the  Roman  Interlude  closes,  the  light  passes  from 
the  ground-circle  to  the  middle  stage,  where  Pros- 
per o — descending  his  throne  with  Ariel — moves 
toward  the  centre.  While  they  speak  together  there, 
Caliban — coming  from  his  cave — crawls  part  way 
up  the  steps  and  lies  flat,  occasionally  lifting  his 
head  to  listen} 

PROSPERO 

So,  Ariel,  I  have  harvested  for  thee 
These  orchards  of  mine  art,  and  let  thee  taste 
Their  varied  fruitages,  some  that  have  ripened 
In  climes  auspicious,  some  that  are  part  decayed. 
Now   from   three  vineyards — Egypt,    Greece,   and 

Rome — 

I  will  distill  a  varicolored  wine 
For  Caliban  to  drink.     So,  steeped  in  spirit, 
Haply  he  also  shall  see  visions.    Hast 
Thou  learned  by  heart  all  that  I  whispered  to  thee? 

ARIEL 
All,  Master. 

34 


CALIBAN  35 

PROSPERO 
Tell  me  part. 

ARIEL 

You  will  create 
Out  of  this  world  of  art  three  scenes  of  vision. 

PROSPERO 
And  who  shall  act  them — say! 

ARIEL 

My  Spirits  shall; 
And  I  will  be  their  Prologue. 

PROSPERO 

For  what  purpose? 

ARIEL 
To  tutor  this  beast. 

PROSPERO 
And  why? 

ARIEL 

That  he  may  grow 
To  reverence  Miranda,  and  forswear 
Setebos. 


36  CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

So !  and  to  dispel  the  Powers 
Of  Setebos,  I  have  transformed  his  cave 
To  be  her  temple  and  my  theatre. — Look! 

[Prospero  raises  his  staff  toward  the  darkness  that 
conceals  the  background.  As  he  does  so,  increas- 
ing light  reveals  the  rude,  irregular  contours  of  the 
cave  of  Setebos  transformed  to  the  architectural  lines 
of  a  splendid  proscenium,  in  the  oblong  of  which 
the  Cloudy  Curtains  shut  of  the  inner  stage.  The 
idol  of  Setebos  has  vanished. 

While  this  transformation  is  taking  place,  the  Spirit 
Choirs  of  Ariel  appear  above  the  proscenium,  sing- 
ing] 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 

In  the  same  abode  and  cell 
Where  the  Toad  was  wont  to  dwell, 
And  the  Tiger  stretched  his  claw, 
We  have  built  a  shrine  of  Law: 
We  have  chosen  the  lair  of  hate 
To  love,  imagine  and  create. 

Out  of  blood  and  dross, 

Out  of  Setebos, 

We  are  risen  to  show 

The  art  of  Prospero: 

Here  within  his  head  and  heart 

Our  souls  are  servants  of  his  art. 


CALIBAN  37 

[Their  appearances  vanish  above.] 

ARIEL 

Most  noble  Master !     Show  me  now  behind 

Those  cloudy  curtains :    How  have  you  transformed 

The  cave  within? 

PROSPERO 
Come;  I  will  show  thee  how. 

[Pros per o  and  Ariel  pass  through  the  curtains  at  the 
centre  and  disappear  within. 

Meanwhile  Caliban,  peering  above  the  top  step,  stares 
in  dumb  awe  at  the  changed  scene.  There  he  is 
hailed  from  below  by  the  priest  of  Setebos,  Lust, 
who  comes  forth  from  his  cell  and  calls:} 

LUST 
Caliban!    Remember  Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

[Starting,  backs  down  the  steps  in  scared  pantomime.] 

Aye,  Setebos!    But  I  hear  their  watch-dogs  bark: 
Bow-wow !    I  feel  their  tongue-bites  yet — their  tor- 
ments. 


38  CALIBAN 

LUST 
Caliban !     Restore  thy  father's  temple. 

CALIBAN 

Yea,  but  my  father  had  no  feet  to  dance. 

Curse  on  their  yellow  sands !    They  sting  my  eyes 

Still  wi'  their  blindings.     Blast  'em! 

[He  springs  part  way  up  the  steps  again.] 

LUST 

Caliban! 
Restore  the  priests  of  Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

His  priests ! 

Nay,  what  if  the  cock  sang — their  chanticleer 
His  Diddle-diddle-dow  !    Burneth  my  spine 
Still  with  that  crowing. 

[Recnter  Prospero  through  the  curtains.] 

LUST 

Hush!  he  comes  again. 
I  await  thy  call.     Cry  on  Caligula 
And  I  will  come. 

[Lust  goes  in  the  cell.] 


CALIBAN  39 

PROSPERO 

[Calling  within  the  curtains.] 

Now,  Ariel,  where  art  thou? 
Ariel! 

ARIEL 

[Stepping  forth  from  behind  the  curtains,  dressed  in 
the  garb  of  Prologue,  bows  low] 

Here,  great  Master!    I  am  now 
Prologus,  at  your  service. 

PROSPERO 

Nay,  not  mine 
But  his.     [Calling] 

Come,  Caliban:  behold  thy  tutor. 
Behind  these  curtains  he  will  show  thee  now 
More  than  thy  nature  dreams  on.     If  thou  obey  him 
And  learn  mine  art,  thou  shalt  go  free  like  him. 
If  not,  thou  shalt  be  spitted  on  a  tooth 
More  sharp  than  Setebos.    What  sayest? 

CALIBAN 

[Cringing] 

Lord, 

Art  Cock  o'  the  world,  and  Caliban  thy  worm; 
Yea,  only  beggeth  thee  crow  no  more,  nor  set 
Thy  dancing  dogs  to  bark  at  him. 


40  CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

Tush,  fool: 
Wilt  thou  obey? 

CALIBAN 

Obeyeth  both  of  you. 
PROSPERO 

That's  well.     Sit  here  and  watch.     Now,  Ariel, 
Thy  prologue :  then  reveal  what  lies  behind. 

[Prospero  mounts  his  throne,  on  the  steps  of  which 
Caliban  squats  below  him,  watching  and  listening 
with  growing  curiosity.  At  the  centre,  before  the 
Cloudy  Curtains,  Ariel  speaks.] 

ARIEL 

From  Egypt,  by  our  Master's  art, 

Behold  now,  when  these  curtains  part, 

A  scene  of  fleeting  pageantry : 

Behold  where  pale  Mark  Antony 

Hath  fled  his  sore  defeated  ships 

In  quest  of  Cleopatra's  lips, 

And  turned  the  tides  of  war  amiss 

To  pawn  a  kingdom  for  a  kiss.— 

So,  by  my  Spirits'  acting,  see 

Of  what  strange  stuff  these  humans  be ! 

[Ariel  retires  within  through  the  curtains,  which  then — 
to  the  melodic  dirge  of  flutes  within — draw  apart, 


CALIBAN  41 

disclosing  the  inner  stage,  which  depicts  a  scene  of 
vivid  Egyptian  coloring.] 

FIRST  INNER  SCENE 

Against  a  background  of  deep  blue  sky,  the  barge* 
of  Cleopatra  lies  moored  at  an  ancient  wharf : 

*"The  barge  she  sat  in,  like  a  burnish 'd  throne, 
Burn'd  on  the  water:  the  poop  was  beaten  gold; 
Purple  the  sails,  and  so  perfumed  that 
The  winds  were  love-sick  with  them.     The  oars  were  silver, 
Which  to  the  tune  of  flutes  kept  stroke.     .     For  her  own  person, 
It  beggar 'd  all  description:  she  did  lie 
In  her  pavilion — cloth-of-gold  of  tissue — 
O'er-picturing  that  Venus  where  we  see 
The  fancy  out-work  nature .     On  each  side  her 
Stood  pretty  dimpled  boys,  like  smiling  Cupids, 
With  diverse-color 'd  fans,  whose  wind  did  seem 
To  glow  the  delicate  cheeks  which  they  did  cool.     .     .     . 
Her  gentlewomen,  like  the  Nereides, 
So  many  mermaids,  tended  her  i '  the  eyes, 
And  made  their  bends  adornings.     At  the  helm 
A  seeming  mermaid  steers;  the  silken  tackle 
Swell  with  the  touches  of  those  flower-soft  hands, 
That  yarely  frame  the  office.     From  the  barge 
A  strange  invisible  perfume  hits  the  sense 
Of  the  adjacent  wharfs." — [Antony  and  Cleopatra:  11,2.     Shakespeare.] 

The  charm  and  splendor  of  this  description  applies  here  only  to  the 
beauty  of  the  barge  and  those  it  bears:  otherwise  Cleopatra  and  her  at- 
tendants are,  in  their  appearance,  distraught  and  fearful,  and  the  barge 
shows  signs  of  recent  perilous  escape  from  the  scene  of  Antony's  sea- 
battle  with  Octavius  Caesar. 

Being  here  conceived  as  a  plastic  vision  in  the  mind  of  Prospero, 
this  Inner  Scene — an  excerpt  from  Act  III,  Scene  XI,  of  Shakespeare's 
play — has,  by  dramatic  license  appropriate  to  this  masque,  been  laid  in 
a  scene  suggested  by  the  above  description  of  the  barge. 


42  CALIBAN 

From  the  left,  along  the  wharf,  enters  Mark 
Antony,  attended  by  Soldiers  and  Populace  in 
Roman  and  Egyptian  garb.] 

ANTONY 

Hark!  the  land  bids  me  tread  no  more  upon  Jt; 
It  is  ashamed  to  bear  me !     Friends,  come  hither. 
I  am  so  hated  hi  the  world,  that  I 
Have  lost  my  way  forever.  I  have  a  ship 
Laden  with  gold;  take  that,  divide  it;  fly, 
And  make  your  peace  with  Caesar. 

ALL 

Fly!    Not  we. 
ANTONY 

I  have  fled  myself;  and  have  instructed  cowards 

To  run  and  show  their  shoulders.    Friends,  be  gone ; 

I  have  myself  resolv'd  upon  a  course 

Which  has  no  need  of  you;  be  gone.     .     . 

Nay,  do  so ;  for,  indeed,  I  have  lost  command.     .    . 

[His  followers  depart,  and  Antony  throws  himself 
down  on  a  buttress  of  the  wharf. 

Meantime  from  the  barge,  Cleopatra — who  has 
looked  on  and  listened — is  led  down  to  the  landing 
by  Chairman  and  her  Attendants,  behind  whom  Eros 
[a  friend  of  Antony]  follows. 

They  approach  Antony,  who — absorbed  in  his 
grief— does  not  see  them.] 


CALIBAN  43 

EROS 

Nay,  gentle  madam,  to  him,  comfort  him.    .    . 

CHARMIAN 
Do!    Why,  what  else? 

CLEOPATRA 

Let  me  sit  down.     O  Juno ! 

[As  Cleopatra  sinks  down  near  him,  Antony — 
now  beholding  her — starts  up  with  a  cry  of  surprise 
and  passionate  pain.] 

ANTONY 

No,  no,  no;  no,  no! 

EROS 

[Pointing  to  Cleopatra's  piteous  aspect.] 

See  you  here,  sir? 

ANTONY 

[Hiding  his  face.] 

O  fie,  fie,  fie ! 

CHARMIAN 

[Bending  over  her.] 

Madam! 

EROS 

[Appealing  to  Antony.] 
Sir,  sir, — 


44  CALIBAN 

ANTONY 

Yes,  my  lord,  yes;  he  at  Philippi  kept 
His  sword  e'en  like  a  dancer,  while  I  struck 
The  lean  and  wrinkled  Cassius;  and  'twas  I 
That  the  mad  Brutus  ended     ...    yet  now — No 
matter. 

[He  sinks  down  again.] 

CLEOPATRA 

[Rising,  to  her  Attendants.] 

Ah,  stand  by    .     .     .    sustain  me !    O ! 

EROS 

Most  noble  sir,  arise ;  the  queen  approaches. 
Her  head's  declined,  and  death  will  seize  her,  but 
Your  comfort  makes  the  rescue. 

ANTONY 
[Drawing  still  away,  despairfully.] 

I  have  offended  reputation, 
A  most  unnoble  swerving. 

EROS 
Sir,  the  queen! 

[Cleopatra  and  Antony  face  each  other — gazing 
into  each  other's  eyes.] 


CALIBAN  45 

ANTONY 

[Suddenly  crying  out.] 

O,  whither  hast  them  led  me,  Egypt?     See, 
How  I  convey  my  shame  out  of  thine  eyes 
By  looking  back  what  I  have  left  behind 
'Stroy'd  in  dishonor. 

CLEOPATRA 

O  my  lord,  my  lord, 

Forgive  my  fearful  sails  !     I  little  thought 
You  would  have  followed. 

ANTONY 

,  thou  knew'st  too  well 


My  heart  was  to  thy  rudder  tied  by  the  strings, 
And  thou  shouldst  tow  me  after.     O'er  my  spirit 
Thy  full  supremacy  thou  knew'st,  and  that 
Thy  beck  might  from  the  bidding  of  the  gods 
Command  me. 

CLEOPATRA 

O  my  pardon  ! 

ANTONY 

Now  I  must 

To  the  young  man  send  humble  treaties,  dodge 
And  palter  in  the  shifts  of  lowness  ;  who 
With  half  the  bulk  o'  the  world  play'd  as  I  pleased, 


46  CALIBAN 

Making  and  marring  fortunes.    You  did  know 
How  much  you  were  my  conqueror;  and  that 
My  sword,  made  weak  by  my  affection,  would 
Obey  it  on  all  cause. 

CLEOPATRA 

[Touching  his  arm,  clings  to  him.] 

Pardon,  pardon! 

ANTONY 

[Overcome  at  her  touch.] 

Fall  not  a  tear,  I  say ;  one  of  them  rates 

All  that  is  won  and  lost.     Give  me  a  kiss. 

Even  this  repays  me.     .     .    Wine ! 

Bring  wine,  within  there :  wine !    For  fortune  knows 

We  scorn  her  most  when  most  she  offers  blows. 

[He  embraces  Cleopatra. 

From  the  right  slaves  enter,  bearing  chalices  and 
wine-beakers.  With  them  come  flutists  and  harpers, 
making  festal  music. 

Snatching  from  them  a  golden  cup,  Antony  raises 
it  aloft  with  an  impassioned  gesture,  returning  the 
triumphant  smile  of  the  Egyptian  queen. 

CLOSING,  THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  SHUT  OFF 
THE  SCENE. 

[Meantime  Caliban,  who  has  risen  absorbed  and  drawn 
slowly  nearer  in  child-like  fascination,  stands  for 


CALIBAN  47 

an  instant,  bewildered.  Then,  with  a  cry,  he  leaps 
forward  in  the  dim-lit  space  and  gropes  along  the 
curtains  with  arms  wide] 

CALIBAN 

Ho,  light!     All's  smother:  'tis  gone!    Yo — yo,  all 

gone— 
Cloud-swallowed,  all!  Ah,  woman,  snake-bright 

queen, 
Thou  wonder- thing,  come  back !  Ah,  where — where— 

where? 

PROSPERO 

So,  so!     Canst  thou,  then,  taste  my  vision,  slave? 
[He  descends  the  throne  toward  Caliban] 

CALIBAN 

[Staring  about  him] 

O  dazzle-blue,  gold-shine,  hot  lotus  smell! 
Blood-root  in  bloom,  and  scarlet  water- weed ! — 
O  silver  sight  and  tinkle- tickling  sound  !— 
Spurteth  my  body  with  joy — burst  in  my  brain 
Enormous  moons  of  wonder! — Float,  still  float, 
You    purpling    sails!      Blaze,    thou    flame- woman! 

Speak 
Sparkles  of  kissing  fire! 


48  CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

[Approaching  him] 

Nay,  art  thou  touched 
Beyond  thy  tiger  cravings? 

CALIBAN 

Ho,  Lord  Master, 

Lord  Chanticleer,  unswallow  from  thy  gorge 
The  world  thou  hast  devoured ! 

PROSPERO 

[Pointing  toward  Ariel,   who   comes  forth  again  as 
Prologus  through  the  curtains] 

Ask  of  thy  tutor; 

He  hath  revealed  that  world  to  thy  brute  ken. — 
Ariel,  this  lump  of  earth  hath  dreams  within  't, 
That  now  begin  to  sprout.     Send  it  more  sun 
And  watering. 

ARIEL 

Sir,  your  art  is  rain  and  sun : 
I  am  but  air,  to  carry  its  wet  or  warmth 
Whereso  you  list. 

PROSPERO 

So  let  it  fall  on  him 

Till  he  shall  wax  to  a  more  worthy  plant 
For  Miranda's  temple-garden. — Here  is  my  Staff: 


CALIBAN  49 

This  wields  my  power.     Here  keep  it  in  thy  charge 

Till  I  return.     So,  use  it  as  a  rod 

To  instruct  this  bungling  cub  of  Setebos. 

ARIEL 

[As  Prospero  goes.] 
I  will,  sir. — Go  you  far? 

PROSPERO 

No  farther  than 
The  frontiers  of  mine  art.     Farewell  a  while! 

[Prospero  passes  within  through  the  curtains.  Half 
confiding,  half  suspicious,  Caliban  comes  near  to 
Ariel  and  questions  him] 

CALIBAN 

Art,  saith!    What's  that— his  art? 

ARIEL 

'Tis  that  which  burns 

Now  in  thy  blood:  the  same  which  conjured  hither 
Bright  Egypt  and  the  kiss  of  Antony. 

CALIBAN 

The  woman  and  the  kiss!    Nay,  saidest  now 
'Tis  rain  and  sun ! 

ARIEL 

Tis  so. 


50  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

Where  falleth  his  rain? 
Where  shineth  his  sun? 

ARIEL 

Yonder  on  the  Yellow  Sands. 
CALIBAN 

Nay,  show  me  this  art!    Is  't  hidden  in  thy  hand? 
Here,  let  me  hold  the  staff. 

[Caliban  reaches  for  the  staff;  Ariel  raises  it  warningly.] 

ARIEL 

Stay !    Touch  it  not 

Lest  it  shall  scorch  thy  fingers  and  set  fire 
To  the  building  world.    The  staff  of  Prospero 
Is  for  his  servants,  not  for  slaves,  to  wield. 

CALIBAN 

[Drawing  back  from  it,  in  fear.] 

Scorcheth  my  fingers,  ah? — So  wield  it,  thou! 
Show  me  once  more  the  snake-bright  queen. 

ARIEL 

Nay,  Egypt 

No  more !    But  come  with  me  to  Prospers  throne 
Where  7  play  master  now.     Here  thou  shalt  sit 
And  watch  the  battlements  of  eternal  Troy 
Where  Troilus  woos  inconstant  Cressida. 


CALIBAN  51 

CALIBAN 

Showest  me  once  more — woman? 

ARIEL 

Even  so; 
For  many  kinds  of  woman  make  mankind. 

[Rising,  Ariel  points  toward  the  inner  stage  and  speaks 
chantingly] 

Now,  from  out  Time's  storied  sphere, 
Homer's  Troy  I  summon  here, 
On  a  dawn  when  Hector  seeks 
Battle  with  the  besieging  Greeks: 
There,  while  heroes  throng  the  gates, 
Cressida  her  lover  'waits, 
Casting  from  a  height  apart 
Tangling  hooks  for  Troikas'  heart. — 
Behold  her  now,  by  Prosper's  art! 

[Ariel  raises  his  staff.] 

SECOND  INNER  SCENE* 

The  Cloudy  Curtains  draw  back,  revealing  the  battle- 
ments of  Troy.  Above,  on  a  rampart,  in  the  first 
rays  of  morning,  CRESSIDA  appears,  with  a  maiden 
Attendant. 


*  During  this  scene^Caliban — watching  intently — slides  from  the  steps 
of  the  throne  and  crawls  slowly  forward  on  his  stomach  to  the  centre, 
where  he  lies  prone,  with  head  lifted — his  body  pointed  toward  the  Inner 
stage — kicking  at  times  his  lower  legs  [from  the  knees]  in  the  air. 


52  CALIBAN 

Below,  murmuring  crowds  are  looking  toward  the 
outer  gates.  Among  them  pass  the  aged  Trojan 
Queen,  and  the  Greek  Helen,  in  her  younger  beauty. 

CRESSIDA 
[Peering  below.] 
Who  were  those  went  by? 

ATTENDANT 

Queen  Hecuba  and  Helen. 
CRESSIDA 
And  whither  go  they? 

ATTENDANT 

Up  to  the  eastern  tower 
To  see  the  battle— Hector, 
Before  the  sun  uprose,  was  harnessed  light 
And  to  the  field  goes  he. 

[Enter  behind  them  Pandarus.] 

CRESSIDA 
Hector's  a  gallant  man.— 

[Turning  to  greet  him.] 
Good  morrow,  Uncle  Pandarus. 

PANDARUS 

[Smiling.] 

Good  morrow,  Cousin  Cressid. 

[Trumpets  are  sounded,  off  left.] 


CALIBAN  53 

Hark!  They  are  coming  from  the  field.  Shall  we 
stand  up  here  and  see  them  as  they  pass  toward 
Ilium? 

CRESSIDA 

At  your  pleasure. 

[They  move  to  a  better  vantage.  At  a  gesture 
from  Cressida  the  Attendant  departs.] 

PANDARUS 

Here,  here's  an  excellent  place.  I'll  tell  you  them 
all  by  their  names,  as  they  pass  by;  but  mark 
Troilus  above  the  rest. 

CRESSIDA 
[With  a  reproving  laugh.] 

Speak  not  so  loud. 

[Below,  from  the  left,  Trojan  warriors,  in  battle 
gear,  begin  to  pass  by,  through  the  admiring  populace 
who  cheer  them  occasionally. 

Among  them 

.ENEAS  PASSES 

PANDARUS 

That's  jEneas :  is  not  that  a  brave  man?  He's  one 
of  the  flowers  of  Troy,  I  can  tell  you.  But  mark 
Troilus;  you  shall  see  anon. 

ANTENOR  PASSES 


54  CALIBAN 

CRESSIDA 

Who's  that? 

PANDARUS 

That's  Antenor:  he's  one  o'  the  soundest  judgments 
in  Troy.  But  when  comes  Troilus?  I'll  show 
you  Troilus  anon.  If  he  sees  me,  you  shall  see 
him  nod  at  me. 

CRESSIDA 

[Archly.] 

Will  he  give  you  the  nod? 

PANDARUS 
You  shall  see. 

CRESSIDA 

If  he  do,  the  rich  shall  have  more. 
HECTOR  PASSES 

PANDARUS 

That's  Hector:  that,  that,  look  you,  that;  there's  a 

fellow! 
Go  thy  way,  Hector !    There's  a  brave  man,  niece. 

CRESSIDA 
O,  a  brave  man ! 

PANDARUS 

Swords !  anything,  he  cares  not ;  an  the  devil  comes  to 
him,  it's  all  one.  Yonder  comes  Paris — Paris! 

PARIS  PASSES 


CALIBAN  55 

Who  said  he  came  hurt  home  to-day?  He's  not  hurt. 
Why,  this  will  do  Helen's  heart  good  now,  ha !  Would 

I  could  see  Troilus  now!    You  shall  see  Troilus 

anon. 

HELENUS  PASSES 

CRESSIDA 
Who's  that? 

PANDARUS 

[Searching  with  his  eyes,  grows  impatiently  expect- 
ant.] 

That's  Helenus. — I  marvel  where  Troilus  is. — That's 
Helenus — I  think  he  went  not  forth  to-day.— 
That's  Helenus. 

CRESSIDA 
Can  Helenus  fight,  uncle? 

PANDARUS 

Helenus?  no.  Yes,  he'll  fight  indifferent  well.— I 
marvel  where  Troilus  is.  Hark !  do  you  hear  the 
people  cry  "Troilus?" 

TROILUS  PASSES 

[As  he  approaches,  the  populace  cheer  him. 

His  eyes,  however,  search  about  till  they  rest  on 
the  battlement,  where  Cressida,  returning  his  look, 
starts  back,  trembling. 

Noting  both  their  actions,  Pandarus  continues 
flauntingly  to  point  out  the  young  hero.] 


56  CALIBAN 

'TisTroilus!  There's  a  man,  niece.  Hem!  Brave 
Troilus! 

CRESSIDA 

Peace !    For  shame,  peace ! 

PANDARUS 

Mark  him:  note  him.  O  brave  Troilus!  Look  well 
upon  him,  niece ;  look  you  how  his  sword  is  blood- 
ied, and  his  helm  more  hacked  than  Hector's. 
O  admirable  youth!  Go  thy  way,  Troilus,  go  thy 
way !  Had  I  a  sister  were  a  grace,  or  a  daughter  a 
goddess,  he  should  take  his  choice.  O  admirable 
man !  Paris?  Paris  is  dirt  to  him. 

[While  he  is  speaking,  Cressida  has  taken  from  her 
hair  a  flower,  knotted  its  stem  to  an  arrow,  and 
dropped  the  arrow  beneath  the  rampart,  where  Troilus 
lifts  it  with  a  smile  and  happy  gesture,  bearing  it  away 
with  him,  right.  As  Pandarus  now  turns  to  her, 
Cressida  looks  away  left  and  points  to  others  below.] 

CRESSIDA 
Here  comes  more. 

MORE  FORCES  PASS 

PANDARUS 

Asses,  fools,  dolts!  Chaff  and  bran!  Porridge  after 
meat!  I  could  live  and  die  i'  the  eyes  of  Troilus. 
Ne'er  look,  ne'er  look!  the  eagles  are  gone;  crows 


CALIBAN  57 

and  daws,  crows  and  daws !  I  had  rather  be  such 
a  man  as  Troilus  than  Agamemnon  and  all  Greece. 

[Enter,  above,  Troilus'  Boy,  who  speaks  to  Pandarus.] 

THE  BOY 
Sir,  my  lord  Troilus  would  instantly  speak  with  you. 

PANDARUS 

Where? 

THE  BOY 

At  your  own  house ;  there  he  unarms  him. 

PANDARUS 

Good  boy,  tell  him  I  come.     [Exit  Boy.]     Fare  ye 
well,  good  niece. 

[He  goes  off,  above.] 

CRESSIDA 
Adieu,  uncle ! 

[Below,  the  last  of  the  soldiers  and  populace  have 
passed  off,  right,  where  Cressida  gazes  after  them, 
speaking  aloud  to  herself:] 

O  more  in  Troilus  thousandfold  I  see 
Than  hi  the  glass  of  Pandar's  praise  may  be; 
Yet  hold  I  off.    Women  are  angels,  wooing. 
Things  won  are  done ;  joy's  soul  lies  hi  the  doing. 

[Below,  from  the  right,  Troilus  hastens  back,  alone. 
The  arrow  with  the  flower  he  has  thrust  through  the 


58  CALIBAN 

links  in  his  chain  armor  on  his  left  side.      Pointing 
to  it,  he  calls  up  toward  the  battlement.] 

TROILUS 
Cressida ! 

CRESSIDA 
[With  a  glad  cry.] 
Troilus! 

[Unwinding  her  long  wine-red  scarf,  she  ties  it  to 
the  battlement,  whence  it  flutters  down  to  Troilus. 
Seizing  it,  he  mounts  by  its  aid  toward  the  rampart, 
where  the  face  of  Cressida  peers  luringly  above  him.] 

TROILUS 

[Calling  upward  as  he  mounts.] 
Cressida ! 

[Just  as  he  is  about  to  reach  Cressida, 
THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE. 

[At  the  centre  Caliban  now  leaps  up  in  loud,  excited 
laughter.  Clapping  his  hands  in  the  air,  he 
strides  toward  Ariel  on  the  throne} 

CALIBAN 

Aha!    Troy,  Troy!    Lips  of  Troyland  and  Egypt! 
Lovers  in  links  of  gold!    Ho,  wine  of  woman 
Bubbling  in  vats  of  war! — drinketh  you  all 
Caliban,  Caliban,  son  of  Setebos. — Ariel, 


CALIBAN  59 

Learnest  me  Art?    Lo,  now :    7  am  his  Artist ! 

Tell  him,  Lord  Prospero,  Caliban  createth 

Glories  more  'stounding  still.     Art?    Ho,  'tis  God's 

play! 

But  me  ?    Am  God  i'  the  mire :  can  make  me  Troy 
And  purple  Egypt  out  of  the  mud  i'  my  palm; 
Giveth  me  only  that — his  little  play  stick 

[Pointing  to  the  staff  in  Ariel's  hand] 
To  stir  in  the  mud  withal. 

ARIEL 

Not  yet!— This  staff 
Is  wrought  to  stir  the  spirits  of  the  air, 
Not  dabble  i'  the  slime. 

CALIBAN 

Why  so?  From  bog-slime  bloometh 
The  lotus,  and  the  sea-lark  feedeth  her  young 
Along  the  salt  flats.— 

[With  childish  wheedling.] 

Prithee— the  staff? 

ARIEL 

[Descending  the  throne.] 

'T'would  burn  thee. 
Touch  not  till  thou  art  free.     Yet  patience,  monster, 


60  CALIBAN 

For  thou  hast  learned  to  answer  well,  and  growest 
Rarely  in  thought  and  speech. 

CALIBAN 

[Tickled  to  laughter.] 

Yea,  clever  monster 

Soon  groweth  monstrous  clever.    More  art,  fine  Ariel ! 
Let  Caliban  speak  thy  Prologue. 

ARIEL 

Hush ! — Miranda ! 

[From  her  shrine  Miranda  comes  forth,  with  the  Muses. 
Seeing  the  two7  she  pauses  astonished.] 

MIRANDA 

Nay!— Is  this  Ariel? 

ARIEL 

Tis  I— Prologus. 
Will  you  hear  me,  Mistress? 

MIRANDA 
[As  Caliban  approaches.] 

Thou!— thou,  Caliban! 

ARIEL 
My  pupil. 


CALIBAN  61 

CALIBAN 

[With  confiding  assurance.] 

Liketh  well  thy  father's  art, 
Spring-i'-the-air. 

MIRANDA 

God  speed  thy  learning,  monster ! 
I  am  more  fain  to  help  thee  in  that  task 
Than  all  else  in  the  world. 

CALIBAN 

[Astonished  and  eager.] 

Wouldst  help  me — thou? 

MIRANDA 
How  happy,  if  I  could! 

CALIBAN 

Yea,  canst  thou! — Hark: 
[Glancing  from  his  garb  to  Ariel's.] 

Let  me  wear  glory,  too!    What  booteth  me 

To  be  his  Artist,  if  I  wear  no  cloth 

To  show  my  glory?    He  there  talketh  no  Prologue 

Without  his  toga.    Tog  me,  too,  in  brave 

Colors! 


62  CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 
Well  thought  on. 
[To  one  of  the  Muses} 

Quick,  Euterpe:  Fetch 
Bright  vesture  forth. 

ARIEL 
For  Caliban? 

MIRANDA 

For  whom 

So  fit?    The  need  of  beauty  lies 
Most  near  to  them  who  lack  it. 

[Euterpe  returns,  bringing  bright  garments,  which  she 
and  the  other  Maidens  help  now  to  put  upon  Cali- 
ban} 

So,  dear  Muses: 
Lay  on! 

CALIBAN 

[Delightedly  tries  to  survey  himself} 

Ha,  Sycorax,  an  thou  wert  here  now 
To  look  on  this  thy  son ! 

[He  parades,  with  swelling  pleasure,  before  the  Muses} 

Gaze  well,  good  Spirits! 
Now,  Ariel,  thy  pupil  soon  shall  teach  thee 


CALIBAN  63 

What  thing  this  Art  is:  yea,  teach  Prospero 
A  lesson  in  Js  own  lore. 

MIRANDA 

[To  Ariel,  who  is  about  to  protest} 

Pray,  let  him  tarry 

This  time  with  us.     He  is  too  full  of  dreams 
To  act  us  harm.     Speak  on  thy  Prologue. 

CALIBAN 

[Still  parading.} 

Prologue ! 
Aye,  good :  my  Prologue  shall  come  after. 

ARIEL 

Mistress, 
Keep  here,  this  staff  for  your  protection. 

[Accepting  the  staff  from  Ariel,  Miranda  takes  seat  on 
the  shrine,  where  the  Muses  range  themselves  about 
her} 

MIRANDA 

So! 
Be  near  us,  Caliban. 

CALIBAN 

[Moving  to  the  shrine  steps,  speaks  to  Ariel.] 
What  showest  now? 


64  CALIBAN  j 

ARIEL 

[At  centre,  before  the  curtains} 

Now,  in  Time's  emblazoned  tome 
Egypt,  Greece,  turn  page  for  Rome. 

CALIBAN 
[Mutters  aloud} 

Rome,  ha!    I'll  show  you  Rome! 

ARIEL 

Rocked  by  mighty  Caesar's  fall 
Glooms  the  world  in  battle  pall, 
Where  by  midnight,  worn  and  spent, 
Weary  Brutus,  in  his  tent, 
Watches  'mid  the  Roman  host. 
There  the  pallid  Caesar's  ghost 
Rises  from  his  candle-flame 
Accusing. — Who  shall  bear  that  blame? 
Can  Brutus  wake  a  world  from  shame? 
[Ariel    disappears    through    the    curtains.    Miranda 
raises  the  staff.] 

THIRD  INNER  SCENE 

The  Cloudy  Curtains  part,  disclosing  the  tent  of  Brutus, 

by  moonlight. 
Brutus — his  outer  armor  laid  aside — sits  on  a  couch: 

near  him  Lucius,  a  boy,  nods  drowsily  over  a  stringed 

instrument.     After  a  brief  pause,  Brutus — gazing 

at  him — speaks  wistfully: 


CALIBAN  65 

BRUTUS 

Bear  with  me,  good  boy  : 

Canst  thou  hold  up  thy  heavy  eyes  awhile 

And  touch  thy  instrument  a  strain  or  two? 

LUCIUS 

Aye,  my  lord,  an't  please  you. 
BRUTUS 

It  does,  my  boy: 

I  should  not  urge  thy  duty  past  thy  might ; 
I  know  young  bloods  look  for  a  time  of  rest. 

LUCIUS 

I  have  slept,  my  lord,  already. 
BRUTUS 

It  was  well  done ;  and  thou  shalt  sleep  again ; 
I  will  not  hold  thee  long.     If  I  do  live 
I  will  be  good  to  thee. 

LUCIUS 

[Tuning  his  instrument,  sings  dreamily:] 
Fear  no  more  the  frown  o'  the  great; 
Thou  art  past  the  tyrant's  stroke. 
Care  no  more  to  clothe  and  eat; 

To  thee  the  seed  is  as  the  oak. 
The  sceptre,  learning,  physic,  must 
All  follow  this  and  come  to  dust. 
[Lucius  falls  asleep.] 


66  CALIBAN 

BRUTUS 

This  is  a  sleepy  tune.     O  murderous  slumber, 
Lay  'st  thou  thy  leaden  mace  upon  my  boy 
That  plays  thee  music?    Gentle  knave,  good-night ; 
I  will  not  do  thee  so  much  wrong  to  wake  thee.- 
Let  me  see,  let  me  see ;  is  not  the  leaf  turned  down 
Where  I  left  reading?    Here  it  is,  I  think. 

[The  Ghost  of  Caesar  appears.] 

How  ill  this  taper  burns ! — Ha !    Who  comes  here? 

I  think  it  is  the  weakness  of  mine  eyes 

That  shapes  this  monstrous  apparition. 

It  comes  upon  me.    Art  thou  anything? 

Art  thou  some  god,  some  angel,  or  some  devil, 

That  makest  my  blood  cold  and  my  hair  to  stare? 

Speak  to  me  what  thou  art. 

[In  the  darkness,  dark  ghostly  shapes,  hardly  visible, 
appear  to  urge  forward  the  dead  Caesar,  who  alone 
is  luminous.] 

THE  GHOST 
Thy  evil  spirit,  Brutus. 

BRUTUS 
Why  comest  thou? 

THE  GHOST 
To  tell  thee  thou  shalt  see  me  at  Philippi. 


CALIBAN  67 

BRUTUS 
Well;  then  I  shall  see  thee  again? 

THE  GHOST 

Aye,  at  Philippi. 

BRUTUS 
Why,  I  will  see  thee  at  Philippi,  then. 

[The  Ghost  and  the  dim  Shapes  disappear.    Brutus 
rises.] 

Now  I  have  taken  heart,  thou  vanishest : 
111  spirit,  I  would  hold  more  talk  with  thee.— 

[Calling  aloud.] 

Boy,  Lucius!    Romans,  Romans!    Awake — awake! 
THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE 

[Instantly,  in  the  semi-darkness  without,  Caliban — with 
a  great  cry — springs  among  the  Muses,  snatches 
from  Miranda  the  staff,  and  rushes  with  it  to  the 
centre  of  the  middle  stage,  shouting  aloud:} 

CALIBAN 

Awake,  Romans,  awake! 

[Low  thunders  growl,  and  sharp  flashes  glimmer  about 
him.] 


68  CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 
[Cries  out,  appalled.] 

The  staff!    His  staff! 
Touch  not  its  power,  lest  thou  lay  waste  the  world! 

CALIBAN 

[Grasping  the  staff,  staggers  and  sways  wildly  with  it, 
as  though  being  shocked  by  an  invisible  force.] 

Rome !    Now  do  I  hold  the  roof-beam  o'  the  world. 
Now  am  7  lord  of  lightnings:  Lo,  mine  art 
Shaketh  the  throne  of  Prospero. 

[He  strides  upon  the  throne,  raising  the  staff.] 

Awake, 

Imperial  Rome!     Return,  ye  snake-bright  women 
Of  Troy  and  Egypt !     Stain  these  yellow  sands 
Wine-red  with  spillings  of  your  wreathed  bowls, 
And  let  the  orgied  priests  of  revel  reign. — 
Caligula,  be  crowned  by  Setebos ! 
Caligula!     Caligula!     Caligula! 

[While  he  cries  aloud,  the  Powers  of  Setebos  come  forth 
from  the  cell  beneath,  clad  as  Roman  men,  women, 
and  slaves  and,  joined  by  the  Roman  Interlude 
Pageant  on  the  ground-circle,  raise  the  Emperor  on  a 
palanquin  upon  their  shoulders,  and  bear  him  up 
the  steps  to  the  middle  stage,  shouting  " Caligula!" 

Here  a  scene  of  mingled  riot  and  orgy  follows: 


CALIBAN  69 

Women  dancers  with  golden  bowls,  slaves  shackled  and 
driven  with  whips,  rabble  groups  scrambling  for 
bread  loaves  flung  them  by  heralds,  armed  soldiery, 
and  gorgeous  patrician  lords:  these  swarm  in  a  sor- 
did saturnalia,  from  the  midst  of  which  the  masked 
form  of  Caligula  rises  dominant  in  splendor.  At 
his  gesture,  slaves  tear  the  Muses  from  their  shrine, 
and  give  them  over  to  the  revellers. 

High  above  all,  clutching  the  staff,  his  huge  limbs  rioting 
grotesque  from  his  silken  garments,  Caliban  dances 
on  the  throne  of  Prospero. 

Below,  bass  voices  of  invisible  choirs  chant  through  the 

din  : 
"  Setebos  !  Setebos  !  Thou  art  Setebos  !  " 

Seized  from  the  throne  with  the  Muses,  Miranda — at  the 
centre — is  borne  in  faint  dread  to  the  reaching  arms 
of  Caligula,  who  is  about  to  place  upon  her  his 
crown,  when  a  sudden  pealing  of  silvery  trumpets 
strikes  silence  over  all.  In  awe  the  revellers  gaze 
upward,  and  turn  toward  the  background,  listening. 

Above  them  there,  from  the  darkness,  appears  a  colossal 
CROSS,  burning  with  white  fire. 

Caligula  drops  his  crown. 

Shadow  falls  on  the  colorful  pageantry,  and  all  sink 
slowly  to  their  knees,  as  the  Spirits  of  Ariel  appear 
again  above — their  luminous  wings  outspread  like 
seraphim. 


70  CALIBAN 

At  either  end  one  blows  a  slim  tapering  trumpet. 
High  and  clear,  then,  their  choirs  chant  in  Gregorian 
unison  : 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 

Vexilla  Regis  prodeunt; 
Fulget  Crucis  mysterium, 
Quo  carne  carnis  Conditor 
Suspensus  est  patibulo. 

Quo  vulneratis  insuper 
Mucrone  diro  lanceae, 
Ut  nos  lavaret  crimine, 
Manavit  unda  et  sanguine. 

O  Crux,  ave,  spes,  unica: 
Hoc  Passionis  tempore, 
Auge  piis  justitiam 
Reisque  dona  veniam. 

Te  summa  Deus  Trinitas, 
Collaudet  omnis  spiritus: 
Quos  per  Crucis  mysterium 
Salvas,  rege  per  ssecula. 

During  this  chant,  the  dim  revellers  beneath  bow  their 
bodies  more  low. 


CALIBAN  71 

And  now,  to  faint  organ  music,  the  Cloudy  Curtains, 
parting,  reveal  the  INNER  STAGE  hung  like  an 
early  Christian  shrine  in  a  catacomb — with  prim- 
itive tapestries  of  dusky  blue  and  gold.  Against 
these  in  the  glow  of  candles,  an  image  of  haloed 
Saint  Agnes  holds  a  white  lamb,  which  silent  shep- 
herds are  adoring.  This  group  remains  motionless 
as  a  tableau. 

Then  silently  from  either  side  two  priests  come  forth 
with  swinging  censers.  Passing  forward  and 
down  the  steps  to  the  ground- circle,  they  are  fol- 
lowed in  the  dim  light  by  the  Roman  revellers,  who 
rise  and  pass  off  through  the  Interlude  gates. 

Last  of  all  rises  Caligula,  who  pauses  hesitant,  looking 
back  where  Miranda  still  kneels,  now  grouped 
about  by  her  Muses. 

As  he  stoops  to  lift  his  crown  from  the  earth,  two  Figures 
in  the  INNER  SCENE— a  Shepherd  Boy,  and  a 
Shepherd  wrapt  in  a  hide  mantle — stir  from  the  still 
picture  and  come  forward  in  a  circle  of  light,  while 
THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE  behind 
them,  and  above  the  white  cross  vanishes. 

Speaking  from  the  place  of  light  to  the  Emperor *s  form 
in  shadow,  the  Shepherd  calls  to  him:] 

THE  SHEPHERD 
Caligula! 


72  CALIBAN 

THE  EMPEROR 
Who  calls? 

THE  SHEPHERD 

Reveal  thyself — 
What  thing  thou  art. 

[Stepping  slowly  into  the  light,  the  EMPEROR  bows  him- 
self before  the  SHEPHERD,  holding  up  his  crown 
which  the  Shepherd  takes  and  says  with  a  gesture:] 

Lay  off  thy  mask. 

[Rising,  the  Emperor  puts  off  his  mask,  revealing  him- 
self as  the  PRIEST  OF  SETEBOS.] 

Hail,  Lust! 
LUST 
[To  the  Shepherd] 

Hail,  Prospero! 

PROSPERO 

[Putting  off  his  sheepskin  cloak,  which  the  boy  takes  from 
him] 

Return  to  Setebos. 
[To  the  Shepherd  Boy] 
Ariel,  lead  him  below. 

ARIEL 
So,  Master! 
[Ariel  leads  Lust  away  to  the  cell  beneath] 


CALIBAN  ,  73 

MIRANDA 
[Rising,  goes  to  Prosperous  arms.] 

Father! 

[From  the  outer  dimness,  Caliban — who,  since  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  burning  Cross,  has  lain  flat  on  the 
throne  steps — now  grovels  forward  [trailing  his 
silken  garment  by  one  sleeve]  and  flings  the  stajj 
of  Pros  per  o  into  the  light  space.] 

CALIBAN 
No  more !    Will  never  touch  it  more ! 

PROSPERO 
[Staring  at  the  staff] 

A  thousand  years 

To  build,  and  build  for  beauty,  yet  in  one  flare 
Of  riot  lust,  a  lubber  idiot 
Confounds    time    and    my     toil. — Ah,     daughter, 

daughter! 

How  shall  mine  art  reclaim  this  lapsing  ape 
From  his  own  bondage? 

MIRANDA 

Sir,  my  heart  is  shaken; 
Yet  the  sweet  sight  of  Agnes  and  her  lamb 
Hath  shown  new  comfort. 

[Stooping,  she  lifts  the  staff  and  holds  it  toward  him] 


74  CALIBAN 

Therefore,  even  as  a  Shepherd, 
Take  up  thy  staff  in  patience,  and  urge  still  onward 
This  poor  sloughed  sheep. 


PROSPERO 

Yea,  patience !    Sun,  moon,  stars, 
And  all  that  waxes  hath  its  waning-hour; 
But  patience  is  the  night  behind  the  stars, 
Steadfast  through  all  eclipse. 

[With  his  staff,  he  touches  Caliban  where  he  lies  cringed.] 

Stir,  thou  thick  clot 

Of  clay  and  god-spittle!  Let  thine  atoms  thaw 
To  mud,  where  Prosper  may  imprint  once  more 
His  blurred  seal. 

CALIBAN 

[Hoarsely,  half  rising.] 

Mud:  yea,  methought  to  be 
His  Artist,  and  make  dream-things  of  mine  own 
Like  Ariel  his  spirits,  yet  now — am  mud. 

MIRANDA 

[Pitifully.] 
Nay,  star-dust! 


CALIBAN  75 

ARIEL 

[Returning] 

Master,  from  those  far  frontiers 
You  visited,  have  you  not  brought  us  back 
More  pageants  of  your  art? 

PROSPERO 

Yes,  Ariel: 

Back  from  the  dim  bourns  of  the  Middle  Age 
Of  Germany,  France,  Spain,  and  Italy. 
And  now,  for  this  slave's  tutelage,  I'll  show  you 
Their  quaint  moralities  and  mad-cap  mirth. 
Come  hither,  and  watch:  Lo,  olden  Germany! 
Pageant  of  the  north,  appear. 


SECOND  INTERLUDE* 

Once  more,  through  the  community  gates  of  the  ground- 
circle,  appear ',  in  contrasted  ritual,  successive  Folk- 
Groups,  that  perform  now  episodic  phases  of  the  dramatic 
art  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages.  Concluding,  each 
group  departs. 

First  comes  the  Germanic,  in  part  grimly  austere,  in 
part  naively  grotesque.  On  a  portable,  three-tiered  stage 
this  group  enacts  both  audience  and  players  of  a  popular 
morality  play:  a  pantomime  scene  depicting — in  heaven, 
earth,  and  hell— the  tragic,  romantic  HISTORY  OF 
DOCTOR  FAUSTUS. 

This  Action  is  followed  by  the  contrasted  splendor  of  a 
mediceval  French  scene.  Here,  in  presence  of  the  Kings 
of  France  and  England,  on  THE  FIELD  OF  THE 
CLOTH  OF  GOLD,  is  performed  a  colorful  tournament 
on  horseback. 

Last  follows  a  fusion  of  the  Spanish  and  Italian 
groups  in  the  Third  Action:  a  light-hearted  dramatic 
Scherzo,  full  of  laughter,  knavery,  and  romantic  love, 

*  For  fuller  description   of   this  Interlude,   See   Appendix,    pages 
184-194. 

76 


CALIBAN  77 

performed — in  the  midst  of  a  festa — by  the  pied  actors 
of  the  COMMEDIA  DELL'  ARTE. 

During  this  last  Action,  Pros per o  and  Ariel  [above} 
have  withdrawn  through  the  Cloudy  Curtains,  leaving 
Caliban  alone,  staring  spellbound  at  the  many-hued 
festival  below  him. 


ACT  II 

[Now,  when  the  Italian  Interlude  is  concluded,  the  light — 
passing  to  the  middle  stage — illumines  at  centre 
the  lone  figure  of  Caliban,  where  he  squats  above  his 
cell.  Gazing  out  over  the  ground-circle,  he  calls 
aloud  his  yearning  thoughts:] 

CALIBAN 

O  Sands — Yellow  Sands !    Falleth  on  you  his  rain, 
Shineth  his  sun!    Yea,  there  his  breeding  dews 
Quicken  your  blind  rock-seeds,  till  wondrous  live 

things 
Burst  'em  with  flame-bright  petals;  and  where  his 

light  falls 
You  blossom  with  stars  and  flowers:  But  me — me 

saith, 

Am  mud !    Calleth  me  a  bubble  of  black  ooze 
Can  breed  but  only  mine  own  belly-kind — 
Bog-fish  and  moles. — Lieth! 
[Rising  with  a  great  gesture.] 

Helieth!     'Tislies! 

Sands! — You  wild,  yellow  sands!    I,  too,  I,  too, 
Am  born  to  dance  by  your  eternal  waves 

78 


CALIBAN  79 

And  build  brave  temples  there.  I,  too,  shall  bring  you 
Shoutings  of  life-song,  like  those  Spirits. — Lo, 
I  come  to  you — I  come  now ! 

[Running  down  the  steps,  he  rushes  out  upon  the  ground- 
circle^  where  he  stoops  on  bent  knees  and  kisses  the 
shining  earth. 

Behind  him,  at  the  entrance  of  the  cell,  Death  appears, 
holding  a  great  gray  cloak. 

He  comes  forward,  speaking  in  a  thin  monotone.] 

DEATH 

Caliban! 

CALIBAN 

[Raising  his  head.] 

What  calleth  me  there? 

DEATH 

Death:  priest  of  Setebos. 

CALIBAN 
His  temple  is  fallen:  will  build  no  more  like  his. 

DEATH 
Thou  shalt  restore  his  temple,  Caliban. 

CALIBAN 
[Rising.] 

Nay,  will  not! 


8o  CALIBAN 

DEATH 

None  can  say  me  Nay.    I  am 
The  will  to  not  be  which  denies  all  wills. 

[Through  the  Cloudy  Curtains — slowly — Prospero  en- 
ters, in  troubled  meditation} 


CALIBAN 

And  I  am  Caliban:  [Pointing  toward  Prospero]  will 
be  his  servant. 


DEATH 

Caliban,  thou  shalt  fail.     Thyself  art  failure, 
Setebos'  son. 

CALIBAN 

Myself  am  done  with  Setebos: 
Wear  now  Miranda's  cloth. 


Behold! 


DEATH 

Thou  shalt  wear  mine, 


CALIBAN 

[Looking  at  the  gray  cloak] 
What's  that? 


CALIBAN  81 

DEATH 

My  cloak,  where  thou  shalt  hide 
To  snare  Miranda  unto  bondage.    Hark! 

[Far,  cold,  and  thin  a  dirgeful  choir  sounds  from  the 
cell  behind  the  figure  of  Death.} 

THE  DIRGE 

Gray — gray — gray:  Joy  be  unholy  and  hidden; 

Wan  be  the  rainbow  of  wonder,  frozen  the  tide ! 
Blind — blind — blind:  Passion  be  pale  and  forbidden; 

Dumb  be  the  lips  of  the  soul  to  Beauty  denied ! 

PROSPERO 

[Speaks  to  Ariel,  who  comes  running  from  behind  the 
Cloudy  Curtains.} 

Blithe  bird  of  mine,  my  heart  is  boding  ill. 
Hast  thou  heard? 

ARIEL 

Nay,  Master,  what? 

PROSPERO 

His  dirges. 
ARIEL 

Whose? 
PROSPERO 

Setebos'.     Ha,  'tis  not  his  lust  I  dread, 
Nay,  nor  his  tiger  tooth,  nor  belly  on  fire: 


82  CALIBAN 

'Tis  when  his  fever  cools:  when  the  gray  ash 
Covers  the  life-flame,  and  the  boiling  senses 
Skim  with  thin  ice,  and  the  rank  bloom  wears  hoar- 
frost : 

Not  savage  souls,  'tis  dead  souls  that  defeat  us. 
Not  red,  but  gray — gray. 

[While  Pros  per  o  and  Ariel  have  spoken  together  above, 
Caliban,  below,  has  been  drawn  half  hypnotized 
by  Death  toward  the  cell} 

DEATH 

[To  Caliban.] 

Follow  me. 
CALIBAN 

I  follow! 
DEATH 

[At  the  cell's  mouth,  lifts  the  gray  cloak  to  put  upon 
Caliban] 

Wear  now  my  color. 

CALIBAN 
[As  Death  touches  him,  springs  back] 

No,  no;  thy  hand- touch  freezeth. 
[Fearfully  he  leaps  up  the  steps,  crying  aloud:} 
Prospero !  I  will  serve  thee. 


CALIBAN        <  83 

DEATH 

[Disappearing  within  the  cell] 

Thou  shalt  fail. 

» 

CALIBAN 

[Bowing  before  Prospero] 
Master,  raise  up  thy  servant. 

PROSPERO 

Raise  thyself. 

CALIBAN 
[Slowly  rising] 

So — while  thou  lookest  on  me,  I  can  rise. 
PROSPERO 

Nay,  look  once  more  on  what  I  now  create 
For  thee  to  rise  by.     'Tis  mine  art,  not  me, 
Reigns  as  thy  master.     Master  it,  and  go  free. 

[The  Three  move  toward  the  throne,  where  they  soon 
group  themselves  on  the  steps] 

CALIBAN 

What  wilt  thou  show  me  now? 
PROSPERO 

A  mind  distraught- 
Grasping  at  realms  invisible — like  thine, 
Poor  groping  dreamer.     Ariel,  from  the  scroll 


84  CALIBAN 

Of  mine  old  Gothic  meditations,  bid 

Thy  spirits  blazon  now  a  glimpse  of  Hamlet. 

[He  hands  to  Ariel  his  scroll^ 

ARIEL 

Your  will,  great  Master,  we  revere  it. — 
Lo  where,  to  meet  his  father's  spirit, 
Pale  Hamlet  watches  now,  before 
The  parapets  of  Elsinore ! 

[Ariel  raises  the  scroll;  then,  unrolling  it,  bends  his  looks 
upon  it,  while  the  Cloudy  Curtains  part,  revealing 
the 

FIFTH  INNER  SCENE. 

On  a  platform  at  Elsinore,  by  blazing  starlight,  three 
Figures  are  seen  pacing  the  cold. 

HAMLET 
The  air  bites  shrewdly ;  it  is  very  cold. 

HORATIO 
It  is  a  nipping  and  an  eager  air. 

HAMLET 
What  hour  now? 

HORATIO 
I  think  it  lacks  of  twelve. 


CALIBAN  85 

MARCELLUS 
No,  it  is  struck. 

HORATIO 

Indeed? 

I  heard  it  not :  then  it  draws  near  the  season 
Wherein  the  spirit  held  its  wont  to  walk. 

[A  flourish  of  trumpets,  and  ordnance  shot  off 
within.] 

What  does  this  mean,  my  lord? 
HAMLET 

The  King  doth  wake  to-night  and  takes  his  rouse, 
Keeps  wassail,  and  the  swaggering  up-start  reels ; 
And,  as  he  drains  his  draughts  of  Rhenish  down, 
The  kettle-drum  and  trumpet  thus  bray  out 
The  triumph  of  his  pledge.     .     .     . 

HORATIO 

[Pointing.] 

My  lord,  it  comes! 
[Enter  Ghost.] 

HAMLET 

Angels  and  ministers  of  grace  defend  us ! — 

Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health  or  goblin  damn'd, 

Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven  or  blasts  from  hell, 

Thou  comest  in  such  a  questionable  shape 

That  I  will  speak  to  thee :  I'll  call  thee  Hamlet, 


86  CALIBAN 

King,  father,  royal  Dane :  O  answer  me !    .    .    . 

What  may  this  mean, 

That  thou,  dead  corse,  again  in  complete  steel 

Revisit'st  thus  the  glimpses  of  the  moon, 

Making  night  hideous,  and  we  fools  of  nature 

So  horridly  to  shake  our  disposition 

With  thoughts  beyond  the  reaches  of  our  souls? 

Say,  why  is  this?    Wherefore?    What  should  we  do? 

[The  Ghost  beckons  Hamlet.] 

HORATIO 

It  beckons  you  to  go  away  with  it, 
As  if  it  some  impartment  did  desire 
To  you  alone. 

MARCELLUS 

Look  with  what  courteous  action 
It  waves  you  to  a  more  removed  ground : 
But  do  not  go  with  it. 

HORATIO 

No;  by  no  means. 

HAMLET 
It  will  not  speak ;  then  I  will  follow  it. 

HORATIO 
Do  not,  my  lord. 


CALIBAN  87 

HAMLET 

Why,  what  should  be  the  fear? 
I  do  not  set  my  life  at  a  pin's  fee ; 
And  for  my  soul,  what  can  it  do  to  that, 
Being  a  thing  immortal  as  itself?— 
It  waves  me  forth  again :  I'll  follow  it. 

MARCELLUS 
You  shall  not  go,  my  lord. 

HAMLET 

Hold  off  your  hands. 

HORATIO 
Be  ruled;  you  shall  not  go. 

HAMLET 

My  fate  cries  out, 

And  makes  each  petty  artery  in  this  body 
As  hardy  as  the  Nemean  lion's  nerve. 
Still  am  I  call'd.    Unhand  me,  gentlemen. 
By  heaven,  I'll  make  a  ghost  of  him  that  lets  me ! 
I  say,  away ! — Go  on ;  I'll  follow  thee ! 

[As    Hamlet,    impetuous,    makes    after    the    departing 
ghost, 

THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE 


88  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

[Springing  up.] 

No,  no !    Follow  not !    Let  him  not  follow !     'Tis 
A  spirit  lureth  to  Setebos  and  Death. 
He  knoweth  him  not,  what  'tis; — but,  master,  7  know. 
Me,  me  too  hath  he  beckoned  with  blind  eyes 
And  offered  his  gray  cloth. 

PROSPERO 

Thee?   Death  hath  beckoned 
And  yet  thou  didst  not  follow? 

CALIBAN 

Hither  I  fled 

To  serve  thee,  but  he  said  that  I  should  fail; 
Yet — yet,  and  thou  wilt  help,  I  will  not  fail ! 

PROSPERO 
And  what  wouldst  have  of  me? 

CALIBAN 

[Pointing  to  Ariel.] 

Thy  wonder  scroll: 

Nay,  not  thy  staff  again !    Will  never  more 
Botch  with  thy  lightnings.     Nay,  but  this  littler 

thing 
Lend  me,  and  let  me  bear  it  against  Death 


CALIBAN  89 

To  free  my  father's  spirit  from  his  gray  pall. 
Lettest  Ariel :  let  now  thy  Caliban 
Conspire  to  serve  thee. 

[He  reaches  for  the  scroll} 

PROSPERO 

Why,  thou  wheedlest  well, 
And  I  must  hope  in  thy  self-weening.    Yet 
Beware  lest  thou  thyself  shalt  wear  the  drab 
Thou  takest  from  him:  Gray  hath  arsenic 
More  keen  than  scarlet  or  the  corroding  blood 
That  sered  the  flesh  of  Hercules. 

CALIBAN 
[Eagerly] 

Wilt  lend  me 
The  scroll? 

PROSPERO 

[With  a  gesture  to  Ariel.] 
Here! 

[Ariel  hands  the  scroll,  which  Prospero  then  gives  to 
Caliban.] 

Use  this  token  of  mine  art 
Less  blindfold  than  the  last. 

[Caliban  bounds  away  with  the  scroll] 


90  CALIBAN 

ARIEL 

[Half  protesting} 

Will  trust  him,  Master? 

PROSPERO 

Yea,  though  he  fail  me  yet  again,  for  only 
Trust  can  create  its  object. 

CALIBAN 

[Joyfully  kissing  the  scroll  and  raising  it} 

Now,  now,  Setebos, 
Thy  son  shall  wean  thy  Powers  from  Death,  thy 

priest ! 

[Descending  the  steps,  Caliban  hastens  to  the  mouth  of 
the  cell,  where — as  he  is  about  to  enter — Death  re- 
appears and  hails  him.] 

DEATH 

Welcome,  Caliban! 

[Death  beckons  within.  Pausing  momentarily,  Caliban 
seems  about  to  draw  back,  but  recovering  his  pur- 
pose cries  out  hoarsely:} 

CALIBAN 

Go  on;  I'll  follow  thee. 
[He  follows  within  and  disappears. 


CALIBAN  91 

Caliban  and  Death  have  hardly  vanished,  when  Miranda 
comes  from  her  shrine,  followed  by  the  Muses,  who 
are  accompanied  by  a  troop  of  Fauns.  The  classic 
hides  of  these  are  partly  concealed  by  gay  mcdiceval 
garments  [Florentine  and  French],  and  some 
bear  in  their  hands  great  vellum  books  and  parch- 
ments, which  they  stack  in  a  pile  near  the  shrine] 

MIRANDA 

[Calling  joyously] 

Muses,  sweet  friends  to  mirth !     Come  forth  again 
And  fetch  your  little  Fauns,  that  drowsed  so  long 
In  mildew 'd  vaults  of  antique  vellum,  through  all 
The  winters  of  dark  ages.     Come,  sad  Clio, 
Unpucker  your  frown !    You,  pale  Melpomene, 
Blush  to  a  lovelier  time.    Yond  yellow  sands, 
That  ran  blood-red  with  orgies  of  old  Rome, 
Shine  golden  now  with  young  renascence.     The  ages 
Renew  their  summer.     Joy  hath  its  June  once  more, 
For  once  more  Prosper  reigns. 

PROSPERO 

[As  Miranda  comes  to  him.] 

'Tis  thy  returning 

Restores  my  summer  time.     I  see  thou  hast 
Been  rummaging  old  lockers. 

MIRANDA 

Aye,  sir,  and  found 


92  CALIBAN 

These  sharp-eared  Fauns,  hiding  like  wintered  field- 
mice 

In  attic  parchments.     So  I  set  'em  free 
To  play,  while  Care  the  Cat's  away. — Come,  now, 
Sicilian  boys,  caper  your  shag-hair  shins, 
And  thou,  Terpsychore,  lead  on  their  dance 
To  please  my  father. 

[At  her  command,  Terpsychore  and  the  Fauns — to 
instruments  played  by  the  Muses — perform  a  joy- 
ous dance  before  Prospero.  As  they  conclude,  he 
greets  them  with  a  smile} 

PROSPERO 

Thanks,  you  hearts  upleaping! 
After  long  ominous  hours,  thanks  for  your  f esta ! 
And  you,  dear  child  incorrigible  for  joy, 
Come  now,  I  will  requite  you — not  in  gold, 
But  golden  fantasy,  wrought  all  one  glow 
Of  shadowless  shining. 

MIRANDA 

Ah,  another  vision? 
PROSPERO 

Aye,  'tis  a  vision,  that  myself  beheld 
Shine  on  the  soil  of  France.     I'll  show  you  Peace  : 
The  kings  of  earth  at  peace,  after  red  battle; 
Two  kings  of  men,  each  clasping  brother's  hand 
Warm  with  the  golden  passion  of  strong  peace. 


CALIBAN  93 

MIRANDA 
What  kings  were  they,  and  where? 

PROSPERO 

England  and  France: 

'They  met  in  the  vale  of  Andren,  'twixt  Guynes  and 

Arde; 

I  was  then  present,  saw  them  salute  on  horseback; 
Beheld  them,  when  they  lighted,  how  they  clung 
In  their  embracement,  as  they  grew  together.' — * 
But  tell  us,  Ariel,  what  I  told  thee  remember, 
How  Peace  was  crowned  on  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of 

Gold. 

MIRANDA 
How  brave  a  name!    Would  I  had  been  there! 

ARIEL 
[Bowing,  as  Prologue.] 

'You  lost 

The  view  of  earthly  glory :  men  might  say 
Till  this  time  pomp  was  single,  but  now  married 
To  one  above  itself.    Each  following  day 
Became  the  next  day's  master,  till  the  last 
Made  former  wonders  its.    To-day,  the  French, 
All  clinquant,  all  in  gold,  like  heathen  gods, 

*From  Shakespeare's  "King  Henry  the  Eighth,"  Act  I,  Scene  1. 


94  CALIBAN 

Shone  down  the  English ;  and  to-morrow,  they 
Made  Britain  India :  every  man  that  stood 
Show'd  like  a  mine.    Their  dwarfish  pages  were 
As  cherubins,  all  gilt :  the  madams  too, 
Not  used  to  toil,  did  almost  sweat  to  bear 
The  pride  upon  them,  that  their  very  labor 
Was  to  them  as  a  painting :  now  this  masque 
Was  cried  incomparable,  and  the  ensuing  night 
Made  it  a  fool  and  beggar.    The  two  Kings, 
Equal  hi  lustre,  were  now  best,  now  worst, 
As  presence  did  present  them.'* — Lo,  now,  see 
How  first  they  met,  and  clasped  their  hands  in 
peace ! 

[Lifting  Prosperous  staff,  Ariel  makes  a  gesture  toward 
the  Cloudy  Curtains,  which  part,  discovering  the 


SIXTH  INNER  SCENE 

Here,  to  an  opening  fanfare  of  golden  trumpets,  takes 
place  a  PANTOMIME,  all  of  gold,  depicting  to  the 
eye,  as  in  a  glowing  fantasy,  the  meeting  of  the  Kings 
and  their  Retinues :  the  alighting  of  the  Kings  from 
horseback,  their  embracement  and  their  clasping  of 
hands. 

During  this  enactment  of  the  pantomime,  the  choirs  of 
Ariel's  Spirits  sing,  unseen:] 

*From  Shakespeare's  "  King  Henry  the  Eighth,"  Act  I,  Scene  1. 


CALIBAN  95 

SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 

Glory  and  serenity, 

Splendor  of  desire, 
Blend  where  golden  lilies  bloom 

Mid  St.  George's  fire: 

Lilies  of  France  ! — behold 
How  they  glow  on  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold, 
And  the  battle-captains  curb  their  bands 

Where  the  kings  of  earth  clasp  hands. 

Power  and  principality 

Raise  to  Peace  their  choir 
Where  Lord  Christ  his  lilies  cling 

Round  the  Dragon's  ire: 

Lilies  of  Christ ! — behold 

How  they  flame  from  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold, 
Where  the  captains  bow  to  their  Lord's  commands 

And  the  kings  of  men  clasp  hands. 

[At  the  climax  of  the  meeting  of  the  Kings, 

THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE 

PROSPERO 

[Smiling,  to  Miranda.] 
This  glowing  taketh  thee. 

MIRANDA 

O,  my  good  father! 


96  CALIBAN 

Methinks  my  soul  is  a  flake  o'  the  sun,  for  where 
Things  golden  shine,  I  spangle,  too;  yea,  burn 
To  be  Aurora,  and  trail  cloth  of  gold 
Around  the  world. 

PROSPERO 

Unless  my  will  miscarry, 
Thou  shalt  be  such  a  morning  messenger 
And  wake  the  world  with  beauty.    Now  my  plans 
Wait  on  a  vast  result,  for  Caliban 
Himself  hath  gone  to  deal  with  Setebos 
His  gray  priest,  Death. 

MIRANDA 

What,  Caliban!    O  glad 
Hope  for  us  all!    Your  art  begins  to  triumph, 
And  Ariel's  Spirits  to  conquer. 

PROSPERO 

That  still  waits: 

Meanwhile  mine  art  drinks  from  this  renaissance 
Deep  draughts  against  a  dark  to-morrow. — Hither, 
You  Fauns !    Come,  bear  my  gold-emblazoned  scrolls 
And  silver-clasped  books  before  me! 

{Lifting  the  scrolls  and  volumes  from  their  pile  by  the 
shrine,  the  Fauns  come  forward  with  them  to  Pros- 
j  who  turns  affectionately  to  Miranda.] 


CALIBAN  97 

I 

Will  leave  you  now,  and  pore  awhile  on  these 
For  further  conjurings. 

MIRANDA 

[Detaining  him.] 

Yet  conjure  once 
Again  before  you  go ! 

PROSPERO 

What  wouldst  thou,  dear? 

MIRANDA 

Hardly  I  know:  but  something  high,  serene, 
And  passionately  fair:  some  vision'd  glimpse 
Of  fadeless  youth,  and  lovers  rich  through  love. 

PROSPERO 

Why,  Ariel  hath  his  orders  still.— [70  Ariel.]    List, 

pupil: 

To  glad  thy  mistress'  heart,  when  I  am  gone, 
Pour  the  warm  moon-wine  of  Italian  night 
Into  a  dream-cup,  where  entranced  lovers 
Seal  with  charm'd  lips  their  vows.     Therein  dissolve 
What  visions  rise,  till  they  shall  melt  in  one 
Gloaming  of  love  and  music. — So,  Miranda, 
Rich  dreams!    Faun-boys,  bear  on  my  books  before 

me! 


98  CALIBAN 

[Accompanied  by  the  bright-clothed  Fauns,  bearing  the 
great  books  and  scrolls  in  quaint  procession,  Pros- 
pero  departs  through  the  throne-entrance. 

Meantime,  the  Muses  and  Miranda  gather  at  the 
shrine,  where  Ariel  approaches  Miranda] 

ARIEL 
Mistress — 

MIRANDA 

Hark,  Muses!    Ariel,  speak  on! 
ARIEL 

Ear  and  eye,  now,  list  and  lo: 
Mirth  of  mad  Mercutio, 
Juliet's  sigh  for  Romeo; 
Dim  Lorenzo's  murmur 'd  "Ah!" 
For  moon-dreaming  Jessica; 
Dance  of  flower-soul'd  Perdita 
Wafted  to  her  Florizel 
Like  a  wave  o'  the  sea:  List  well; 
Lo,  their  night  renews  its  spell! 
[At  Ariel's  last  word  and  gesture,  the  Cloudy  Curtains 
part,  disclosing  the 

SEVENTH  INNER  SCENE 

In  the  glow  and  gloom  of  Italian  night,  as  high  clouds 
intermittently  obscure  the  moon,  a  palace  garden 
lies  in  deep  shadow.  Emerging  only  partly  into 


CALIBAN  99 

view,  where  soft  light-floodings  fall  on  moss-stained 
statue,  marble  bench,  and  balcony,  there  is  revealed 
at  first  [on  the  left]  nothing  but  a  glimpse  of  garden 
wall,  before  which  flash  in  the  dimness  two  pied 
figures  [Benvolio  and  Mercutio].  Calling  shrilly, 
their  young  voices  rain  showers  of  fluting  laughter. 

BENVOLIO 

Romeo!     My  cousin  Romeo !     .     .     . 

He  ran  this  way,  and  leap'd  this  orchard  wall : 

Call,  good  Mercutio. 

MERCUTIO 

Nay,  I'll  conjure,  too : 

Romeo!  humors!  madman!  passion!  lover!— 
I  conjure  thee  by  thy  true  love's  bright  eyes, 
By  her  high  forehead  and  her  scarlet  lip, 
By  her  fine  foot,  straight  leg,  and  quivering  thigh 
And  the  demesnes  that  there  adjacent  lie, 
That  in  thy  likeness  thou  appear  to  us  !— 
He  heareth  not,  he  stirreth  not,  he  moveth  not. 

BENVOLIO 

Come,  he  hath  hid  himself  among  these  trees, 
To  be  consorted  with  the  humorous  night : 
Blind  is  his  love  and  best  befits  the  dark. 

MERCUTIO 

If  love  be  blind,  love  cannot  hit  the  mark    .    .    . 
Romeo,  good-night:  I'll  to  my  truckle-bed; 


ioo  CALIBAN 

This  field-bed  is  too  cold  for  me  to  sleep : 
Come,  shall  we  go? 

[They  disappear,  swallowed  up  in  black  shadow. 
And  now  the  shadow,  shifting,  leaves  bare  hi  mellow 
moonshine  a  glimpse  of  the  garden  and  the  balcony, 
where  Juliet,  bending  forward,  calls  mysteriously 
into  the  dark  below:] 

JULIET 

Hist!  Romeo!  hist!    O  for  a  falconer's  voice, 
To  lure  this  tassel-gentle  back  again! 
Bondage  is  hoarse,  and  may  not  speak  aloud ; 
Else  would  I  tear  the  cave  where  Echo  lies, 
And  make  her  airy  tongue  more  hoarse  than  mine 
With  repetition  of  my  Romeo's  name. 

ROMEO 
[Emerging,  below,  from  the  shadow.] 

It  is  my  soul  that  calls  upon  my  name : 

How  silver-sweet  sound  lovers'  tongues  by  night, 

Like  softest  music  to  attending  ears ! 

JULIET 
Romeo ! 

ROMEO 
My  dear? 

JULIET 

At  what  o'clock  to-morrow 
Shall  I  send  to  thee? 


CALIBAN  101 

ROMEO 
At  the  hour  of  nine. 

JULIET 

I  will  not  fail :  'tis  twenty  years  till  then. 
I  have  forgot  why  I  did  call  thee  back. 

ROMEO 
Let  me  stand  here  till  thou  remember  it. 

JULIET 

I  shall  forget,  to  have  thee  still  stand  there, 
Remembering  how  I  love  thy  company. 

ROMEO 

And  I'll  still  stay,  to  have  thee  still  forget, 
Forgetting  any  other  home  but  this. 

JULIET 

'Tis  almost  morning ;  I  would  have  thee  gone : 
And  yet  no  further  than  a  wanton's  bird, 
Who  lets  it  hop  a  little  from  her  hand.     .     .    . 
Good-night,   good-night!    Parting   is   such   sweet 

sorrow 
That  I  shall  say  good-night  till  it  be  morrow ! 

[Once  more  deep  shadow  engulfs  the  scene;  and 
now,  out  of  the  dark,  harmonious  music  sounds  in 
strains  of  passionate  wistfulness.  So,  as  the  music 


102  CALIBAN 

sounds,  on  the  right,  beams  of  the  moon  reveal  a 
flowery  bank,  whereby  Lorenzo  and  Jessica  are  dis- 
covered.] 

LORENZO 

How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps  upon  this  bank ! 
Here  will  we  sit  and  let  the  sounds  of  music 
Creep  in  our  ears :  Soft  stillness  and  the  night 
Become  the  touches  of  sweet  harmony. 
Sit,  Jessica.     Look  how  the  floor  of  heaven 
Is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  bright  gold : 
There's  not  the  smallest  orb  which  thou  behold'st 
But  in  his  motion  like  an  angel  sings, 
Still  quiring  to  the  young-eyed  cherubins, 
Such  harmony  is  in  immortal  souls ; 
But  whilst  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  it  in,  we  cannot  hear  it. 

[Swift  shadow  sweeps  over  them  in  darkness.  Wan- 
ing from  its  visionary  theme  to  a  hint  of  the  "muddy 
vesture  of  decay ,"  the  music  flows  onward  then  into 
a  dance  melody;  moonlight  touches  the  garden 
again  [on  the  left]  with  its  liquid  glow,  wherein- 
whirled  into  light  from  a  group  of  shadowy  dancers 
outside — Florizel  and  Perdita  are  disclosed.] 

FLORIZEL 

[As  Perdita  withdraws  shyly  her  hand  from  his, 
speaks  to  her  ardently.] 

What  you  do 
Still  betters  what  is  done.    When  you  speak,  sweet, 


CALIBAN  103 

I'd  have  you  do  it  ever.    .    When  you  do  dance, 

I  wish  you 

A  wave  o'  the  sea,  that  you  might  ever  do 
Nothing  but  that;  move  still,  still  so, 
And  own  no  other  function :  each  your  doing 
So  singular  in  each  particular, 
Crowns  what  you  are  doing  in  the  present  deed, 
That  all  your  acts  are  queens.     .     . 
PERDITA 

O  Doricles, 

Your  praises  are  too  large :  but  that  your  youth, 
And  the  true  blood  which  peepeth  fairly  through  't, 
Do  plainly  give  you  an  unstained  shepherd, 
With  wisdom  I  might  fear,  my  Doricles, 
You  woo'd  me  the  false  way. 
FLORIZEL 

I  think  you  have 

As  little  skill  to  fear  as  I  have  purpose 
To  put  you  to  't.    But  come ;  our  dance,  I  pray : 
Your  hand,  my  Perdita! 

PERDITA 
[Giving  her  hand  confidingly.] 

MyFlorizel! 

[Together  they  dance  away  into  the  dark  and  the  luring 
music,  as 

THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE 


104  CALIBAN 

[Still,  after  the  curtains'  closing,  the  music  continues, 
but  now  more  faint,  changing  the  idyllic  strains  of 
the  dance  rhythm  to  a  minor  sadness,  which  grad- 
ually takes  form  as  a  drear,  monotonous  proces- 
sional. Through  the  faint  music,  Miranda  speaks 
to  Ariel.] 

MIRANDA 

Too  brief !  too  brief,  sweet  bird !    O  Ariel,  be 
Time's  nightingale,  and  charm  these  lovers  back 
To  yearn  immortal  youth.     Methinks  already 
Their  absence  leaves  us  age'd :  Dost  thou  not  feel 
A  waning  of  high  powers?    Doth  not  a  pallor 
Creep  on  the  glowing  world? 

ARIEL 

Yea,  so  I  have  felt 
After  the  equinox — November  coming  on. 

MIRANDA 

[Starting,  as  she  gazes  at  one  of  the  Muses.] 
Euterpe  dear!    What  lock  of  gray  is  this 
In  thy  bright  hair? — Quick,  Ariel:  fetch  my  father, 
For  sudden  my  heart  aches,  and  I  wish  him  near. 

ARIEL 

Straight  I  will  bring  him,  and  my  Spirits,  too. 
Be  merry,  mistress:  they  shall  soon  restore  us. 
[Ariel  hastens  of,  left.     As  he  does  so,  the  Muses,  with 
downcast  looks,  file  of  right  into  the  shrine] 


CALIBAN  105 

MIRANDA 

Nay,  darling  Muses !  do  not  leave  me,  too. 
What,  must  you  all  go  hence?     Still  I  must  tarry 
To  greet  my  father.     Friends,  good-bye ! 

[They  depart] 

Ah  me! 
What  voices  make  their  dirge  within  my  heart? 

[While  she  has  spoken,  the  mouth  of  Caliban's  cell, 
emitting  a  ghastly  glow,  fills  with  dim  Shapes, 
which  pour  outward,  and  swarm  slowly  upward 
over  the  steps,  covering  the  stage  with  a  moving,  hud- 
dled gray  ness,  out  of  which  two  cloaked  Figures  rise 
distinct  in  the  dusk.  As  they  come  forth  and  hover 
nearer  to  Miranda,  a  cold  dirge  issues  with  them 
from  below^ 

THE  DIRGE 

[As  before.] 

Gray — gray — gray:  Joy  be  unholy  and  hidden; 

Wan  be  the  rainbow  of  wonder,  frozen  the  tide ! 
Blind — blind— blind:  Passion  be  pale  and  forbidden; 

Dumb  be  the  lips  of  the  soul  to  Beauty  denied  ! 

[Slowly  the  gray  hosts  surround  Miranda,  who  stares 
at  them,  only  half  believing  their  presence,  till  the 
dusk,  growing  lighter,  reveals  their  long  Puritan 
cloaks  and  peaked  hats,  and  the  two  muffled 


io6  CALIBAN 

Ones  in  Gray  towering  before  her.     Then  faintly  she 
speaks  to  them:} 


MIRANDA 

What  are  you?    Why  are  you  come?    Ah,  you — 'tis 

you: 
Priest  of  Setebos !— Caliban ! 

[She  sways  and  falls.] 

CALIBAN 

Ha,  she  swooneth. — 
O  Death,  unfasten  thy  spell ! 

DEATH 

Nay,  thou  hast  failed. 

[Lifting  the  scroll  of  Prosper  o,  which  he  has  taken  from 
Caliban,  Death  makes  a  gesture  to  his  followers.] 

Bear  her  to  Setebos! 

[Then,  laying  his  hand  upon  Caliban,  he  turns  with  him 
backward,  as  a  group  of  the  gray-cloaked  Shapes 
raise  the  limp  form  of  Miranda  to  a  cloth-draped 
bier,  and  thus  bear  her  downward  toward  the  cell's 
mouth.  In  dim  processional,  as  they  go,  they 
raise  again  their  dirge:} 


CALIBAN  107 

THE  DIRGE 

Gray — gray — gray:  Love,   be  sin-born  of  Misgiving! 

Life,  be  a  garment  of  dullness,  drab  from  the  loom! 
Bleak — bleak — bleak:  Death,  Death  is  lord  of  the  living: 

Not  in  the  clay  but  the  heart  of  man  lies  the  tomb. 

[Disappearing  in  the  cell  below,  their  chant  dies  away. 
Above  them,  from  the  left,  Ariel  returns,  alone. 
Searching  in  the  dusk,  half  fearfully,  he  calls:] 

ARIEL 

Miranda — mistress:  He  hath  vanished.    Nowhere 
Can  I  find  trace  of  him.     Yea,  and  my  Spirits 
They,  too — they,  too,  are  gone,  lost  in  the  grayness: 
All  have  deserted  us!    Miranda — mistress! 
Where  art  thou?    Gone,  thyself? — and  I  alone! 
O  gray,  that  hast  engulfed  a  world  of  beauty, 
Where  shall  I  find  them  ever  more — my  master, 
My  star-bright  mistress?    Hear  me,  Yellow  Sands! 
If  you  have  beheld  them,  answer  now  my  prayer! 

[Outstretching  his  arms  toward  the  Sands.] 
Prospero!    Prospero! — Master! 

[From  far  across  the  Sands  bursts  a  mellow  radiance, 
and  the  rich  voice  of  Prospero  calling  in  answer:] 

PROSPERO 

Ariel!  Ariel! 
Ho,  bird! 


io8  CALIBAN 

[Springing  into  light  upon  the  farthest  wave-lines  of  the 
Yellow  Sands,  Pros  per  o  comes  returning,  sur- 
rounded by  the  Spirits  of  Ariel,  clad  all  in  green  and 
bearing  in  their  midst  a  garlanded  May-pole. 

Marching  joyously  across  the  circle  toward  Ariel,  all 
in  radiant  glow,  they  come  shouting  a  choral  song:] 

THE  SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 

"Sumer  is  icumen  in, 
Lhude  sing  cuccu ! 
Groweth  sed,  and  bloweth  med, 
And  springth  the  wude  nu. — Sing  cuccu  ! 

uAwe  bleteth  after  lomb 

Lhouth  after  calve  cu  ! 
Bulluc  sterteth,  bucke  verteth, 

Murie  sing  cuccu ! 

"Cuccu,  cuccu,  well  singes  thu,  cuccu: 

Ne  swike  thu  naver  nu; 
Sing  cuccu,  nu,  sing  cuccu, 

Sing  cuccu,  sing  cuccu,  nu !" 

[Leaping  up  the  steps,  they  plant  the  May-pole  at  the 
centre,  where  Ariel  greets  them] 

ARIEL 
Dear  Master!    O  blithe  hearts :  Have  welcome  home! 


CALIBAN  109 

PROSPERO 

Welcome  our  May-pole  back! — Where  is  thy  mis- 
tress? 

ARIEL 
[Startled.] 
Alas!     You  know  not? 

PROSPERO 

[Reassuringly.] 

Nay,  I  know.     But  cheerly, 

My  birdlings !    Now  that  ye  are  flocked  once  more 
Round  this  enchanted  tree,  I'll  conjure  you 
Out  of  mine  art  such  joyous  rites,  that  they 
Shall  draw  your  Mistress  even  from  the  tomb 
To  join  our  revels.     Come  now,  gather  round 
And  watch  my  antic  rites  of  Merry  England ! 


THIRD  INTERLUDE* 

Now  .through  the  Interlude  gates ,  and  from  all  sides,  a 
jocund  festival  pours  into  the  illumined  space  of  the 
ground-circle:  the  folk  festival  of  Elizabethan  England. 

Simultaneously,  in  different  parts,  as  in  a  merry 
rural  fair,  various  popular  arts  and  pastimes  begin, 
and  continue  together:  Morris  dancers  and  pipers, 
balladists  and  play-actors,  folk  dancers,  fiddlers,  clowns, 
and  Punch-and-Judy  performers  romp,  rant,  parade, 
and  jingle  amongst  flower-girls  and  gay-garbed  jesters 
spangling  by  the  bright  venders'  booths. 

Central,  at  a  point  of  vantage,  above  a  gaping  crowd 
of  lumpkins  and  children,  Noah's  wife  harangues  the 
heavens  from  the  old  play. 

So  they  pursue  their  merriment,  till  the  low  rumble 
and  lowering  of  a  thunder-cloud  disperses  them  with  its 
passing  shadow. 

*  See  Appendix,  pages  196-204,  for  more  detailed  description. 


no 


ACT  III 

[At  the  conclusion  now  of  the  English  Interlude,  out  of 
the  shadow  a  roseate  glow  suffuses  the  cell  of  Cali- 
ban Jrom  which  the  green-clad  Spirits  of  Ariel  come 
running  forth,  bringing  in  their  midst  Miranda. 
Leading  her  in  daisy  chains,  they  mount  with  her 
the  steps  toward  Prosper  o,  singing  in  glad  chorus:] 

THE  SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 

" Spring,  the  sweet  Spring,  is  the  year's  pleasant  king; 
Then  blooms  each  thing,  then  maids  dance  in  a  ring, 
Cold  doth  not  sting,  the  pretty  birds  do  sing, 
Cuckoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo  ! 

"  The  palm  and  may  make  country  houses  gay, 
Lambs  frisk  and  play,  the  shepherds  pipe  all  day, 
And  we  hear  aye  birds  tune  this  merry  lay: 
Cuckoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo  ! 

11  The  fields  breathe  sweet,  the  daisies  kiss  our  feet, 
Young  lovers  meet,  old  wives  a-sunning  sit, 
In  every  street  these  tunes  our  ears  do  greet: 
Cuckoo,  jug-jug,  pu-we,  to-witta-woo  1 
Spring  !  the  sweet  Spring  I  " 
in 


H2  CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 
[Greeting  her.} 
Welcome,  most  dear! 

MIRANDA 

Once  more  you  bring  me  home, 
And  the  gray  world  wears  green ! 

THE  VOICE  OF  CALIBAN 

[Calling,  beneath] 

Ho,  Spring-i'-the-air! 

MIRANDA 
Hark! 

[From  his  cell,  bare-headed,  with  gray  cloak  unbound 
and  flapping  behind,  Caliban  bursts  forth  and 
hastens  toward  them.] 

CALIBAN 

Spring-i'-the-air !    Ah,  leave  me  not  alone! 
Take  me  forth  with  thee,  too!    Not  Death  can  hold 

me 
When  thou  goest  forth  from  him. 

MIRANDA 

It  was  thyself 
That  led'st  me  unto  him. 


CALIBAN  113 

CALIBAN 

With  thee— with  thee 
Would  I  lie  even  with  Death.     But  when  thou  leav- 

est, 

Thy  life-song  prickle th  his  sod,  and  maketh  my  sap 
To  leap,  and  lick  the  sun  again. 

[Kneeling  before  her] 

O,  whither 

Thou  goest,  let  Caliban  go,  and  wear  thy  cloth 
Whatso  its  colors  be ! 

PROSPERO 
[Darkly] 

Keep  from  her,  slave! 

Touch  not  her  hem.     Her  Muses  garbed  thee  once 
Gay  in  her  colors.     Thou  soiled 'st  them  with  shame. 
Next  time  thou  worest  drab,  and  lured'st  thy  Mis- 
tress 

Deathward  in  gray.     Now — now  thou  dares t  crave 
Once  more  to  wear  her  cloth? 

CALIBAN 

Yea,  do  I !     See : 
This  cloak — so  I  forswear  it ! 

[He  puts  of  the  gray  cloak,  tears  it,  and  tramples  upon 
it;  then  turns  to  Miranda] 

Give  me  now 
Thy  green  to  wear! 


H4  CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

Insolence  infinite! 
Ariel,  my  staff! 

MIRANDA 
Stay!— What  to  do? 

PROSPERO 
[About  to  raise  the  staff.] 

To  teach 
This  unwhipt  hound — to  howl. 

CALIBAN 

[Starting  back.] 

Great  Master! 
MIRANDA 

Grace, 

Dear  Father!    Patience  needs  no  quick  compulsion. 
Thine  art  is  wondrous  patient,  and  this  poor 
Slow  climber  needs  thine  art. 

PROSPERO 

Why,  once  again 
Thou  art  my  wiser  self. 

[To  Caliban.] 

Go,  lick  her  hand, 
And  feed  from  it. 


CALIBAN  115 

CALIBAN 

[Laying  his  cheek  on  Miranda's  hand  weeps,  with  great 
sobs.] 

Spring — Spring-i'-the-air,  thy  dew 
Dabbleth  my  face.     O  wonder,  what  art  thou 
That  fillest  so  mine  eyes  with  rain-shine? 

MIRANDA 

April, 

Not  I,  can  conjure  spring  i'  the  air,  and  April 
Plies  rarest  art  in  England. — Ariel, 
Fetch  us,  from  out  my  father's  dreamery, 
Nature's  spring-charm  and  echo  of  English  song! 

[To  the  Spirits  of  Ariel] 

Our  greenwood  cloth!    Come,  busk  him,  merry  men 

all: 
Aye,  both  of  us! 

CALIBAN 

[Rapturously] 

This  time  I  will  not  fail  thee. 

MIRANDA 
[To  Prosper o,  indicating  Caliban] 

Have  faith  in  this  fellow-creature,   and   let   these 

spirits 
Clothe  him  anew. 


n6  CALIBAN 

PROSPERO 

As  you  like  it,  dear,  be  it  so! 

[The  Spirits  clothe  Caliban  and  Miranda  in  green,  while 
from  within  the  Cloudy  Curtains  an  unseen  chorus 
sings:] 

THE  CHORUS 

t"Under  the  greenwood  tree 
Who  loves  to  lie  with  me, 
And  tune  his  merry  note 
Unto  the  sweet  bird's  throat, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither: 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather." 

ARIEL 

Spirits  within,  ho ! 

[The  Spirits  run  through  the  curtains,  at  centre,  and 
disappear  within] 

Prosper's  hood 

Broods  now  a  dream  of  Arden  wood, 
Where  young  Orlando,  daring  fight 
For  succor  of  old  Adam's  plight, 
Defies  the  greenwood  company — 
But  meets  there  with  no  enemy. 


CALIBAN  117 

CALIBAN 

[By  the  throne  with  Miranda  and  Prospero,  murmurs 
aloud:] 

No  enemy! 

[As  Ariel  raises  his  staff,  the  Cloudy  Curtains  part, 
disclosing 

THE  EIGHTH  INNER  SCENE 

A  place  of  dappled  shine  and  shadow  in  the  forest.  No 
boughs  or  trees  are  visible,  but  only  a  luminous 
glade  of  color,  where  falling  sunlight  filters  a  sway- 
ing glow  and  gloom  from  high,  wind-stirred  branches 
above.  On  the  edges  of  the  scene,  the  semi-ob- 
scurity half  conceals  forms  of  the  forest  company 
[Jacques,  the  Duke,  etc.]  who,  seated  about  their 
noon-time  meal,  sing  their  chorus: 

THE  CHORUS 

Who  doth  ambition  shun 
And  loves  to  live  i'  the  sun, 
Seeking  the  food  he  eats 
And  pleased  with  what  he  gets, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither: 
Here  shall  he  see 
No  enemy 
But  winter  and  rough  weather. 

[Enter  Orlando,  with  his  sword  drawn.] 


n8  CALIBAN 

ORLANDO 

[Fiercely.] 
Forbear,  and  eat  no  more! 

JACQUES 

Why,  I  have  eat  none  yet. 
ORLANDO 

Nor  shalt  not,  till  necessity  be  served. 
THE  DUKE 

What  would  you  have?    Your  gentleness  shall  force 
More  than  your  force  move  us  to  gentleness. 

ORLANDO 
I  almost  die  for  food;  and  let  me  have  it. 

THE  DUKE 
Sit  down  and  feed,  and  welcome  to  our  table. 

ORLANDO 

Speak  you  so  gently?    Pardon  me,  I  pray  you : 
I  thought  that  all  things  had  been  savage  here ; 
And  therefore  put  I  on  the  countenance 
Of  stern  commandment.    But  whatever  you  are 
That  in  this  desert  inaccessible 
Under  the  shade  of  melancholy  boughs 
Lose  and  neglect  the  creeping  hours  of  time ; 
If  ever  you  have  looked  on  better  days, 


CALIBAN  ng 

If  ever  been  where  bells  have  knoll'd  to  church, 
If  ever  sat  at  any  good  man's  feast, 
If  ever  from  your  eyelids  wiped  a  tear 
And  known  what  'tis  to  pity  and  be  pitied, 
Let  gentleness  my  strong  enforcement  be : 
In  the  which  hope  I  blush,  and  hide  my  sword. 

THE  DUKE 

True  is  it  that  we  have  seen  better  days, 
And  have  with  holy  bell  been  knoll'd  to  church, 
And  sat  at  good  men's  feasts,  and  wiped  our  eyes 
Of  drops  that  sacred  pity  hath  engender'd: 
And  therefore  sit  you  down  in  gentleness 
And  take  upon  command  what  help  we  have 
That  to  your  wanting  may  be  minister'd. 

ORLANDO 

Then  but  forbear  your  food  a  little  while, 
Whiles,  like  a  doe,  I  go  to  find  my  fawn 
And  give  it  food.    There  is  an  old  poor  man, 
Who  after  me  hath  many  a  weary  step 
Limp'd  hi  pure  love :  till  he  be  first  suffic'd 
I  will  not  touch  a  bit. 

THE  DUKE 

Go  find  him  out, 
And  we  will  nothing  waste  till  you  return. 


120  CALIBAN 

ORLANDO 

I  thank  ye ;  and  be  blest  for  your  good  comfort ! 
[Exit  Orlando.] 

THE  DUKE 

Thou  seest  we  are  not  all  alone  unhappy : 
This  wide  and  universal  theatre 
Presents  more  woeful  pageants  than  the  scene 
Wherein  we  play  in. 

JACQUES 

All  the  world's  a  stage, 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players ! 

[Re-enter  Orlando  with  Adam,  whom  he  helps  to 
support.] 

THE  DUKE 

Welcome !     Set  down  your  venerable  burden 
And  let  him  feed. 

ORLANDO 
I  thank  you  most  for  him. 

ADAM 

So  had  you  need : 
I  scarce  can  speak  to  thank  you  for  myself. 


CALIBAN  121 

THE  DUKE 
Welcome :  fall  to !     Give  us  some  music ;  sing ! 

[Once  more,  as  the  chorus  resumes  the  song  "  Under 
the  Greenwood  Tree," 

THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE 

[The  music  dies  away  within. 

With  a  strange,  dawning  reverence,  Caliban  turns  to 
Miranda  and  speaks:} 

CALIBAN 

"  I  scarce  can  speak  to  thank  you  for  myself.  "- 
Like  him  there  you  have  furnish'd  me  food  of  pity 
And  a  new  world  with  no  enemy  ! 

MIRANDA 

You  have  none, 
Save  the  blind  storms  of  your  own  nature. 

CALIBAN 

Those 
Tempests  are  still  now. 

PROSPERO 

[Approaching.] 

So  mine  art  hath  power 

Once  more  to  calm?     Good :  now  the  tune  is  ripe 
Methinks  to  rest  awhile,  for  I  am  happily 


122  CALIBAN 

Weary,  and  will  take  rest  from  thought. — Miranda, 
Wilt  come  within?    Unhood  me  for  brief  slumber, 
And  smooth  my  couch? 

MIRANDA 

[Rising.] 

Right  gladly. 

PROSPERO 
[To  Ariel.] 

And  thou,  too, 
One  moment:  I've  more  for  this  tutelage. 

[Prospero  passes  off,  right,  by  the  throne  exit,  accom- 
panied by  Ariel.  Miranda,  about  to  follow, 
pauses  at  Caliban' 's  entreating  voice.] 

CALIBAN 

Stay!    What  your  pity  hath  made  me  cries  to  you — 
Leave  me  not!    Let  me  be  yours! 

MIRANDA 
[Wonderingly] 

How  mean  you — mine? 

CALIBAN 

Your  Caliban,  your  creature,  your  bond  slave 
To  fetch  and  bear  for  you. 


CALIBAN  123 

MIRANDA 

I  want  no  bonds 

'Twixt  me  and  any  friend.    Nay,  we  are  friends 
And  free  to  serve  each  other. 

CALIBAN 

Yet  I  yearn 
For  more :  I  know  not  what. 

MIRANDA 

What  more  could  be 
More  happy? 

CALIBAN 

Here  I  crawled  upon  my  belly 
Brute-stuttering  for  you,  where  now  I  stand 
And  pray — with  Prosper's  tongue.  His  art  hath 

bred 

Within  my  blood  a  kinship  with  your  kindness 
That  cries:  " Miranda,  thou  and  I  are  one!  " 
I  know  not  how — I  know  not  how. 

MIRANDA 

You  love  me. 
'Tis  simple,  then:  I  love  you,  Caliban. 

CALIBAN 

[In  a  splendor  of  amazement.] 

Lovest  me — thou?  thou ! — Wilt  be  mine? 


124  CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

Nay,  truly 
You  know  not  how.    Love  knows  not  mine  and 

thine, 

But  only  ours;  and  all  the  world  is  ours 
To  serve  Love  in.     I  am  not  thine,  good  friend. 

[She  goes  within.] 

CALIBAN 

Stay  yet! — She  loveth  me!    Yet  Love,  she  saith, 
Love  knows  not  mine  and  thine. 

A  VOICE  FROM  BENEATH 
[Calls  deeply.] 

She  shall  be  thine, 
Caliban ! 

CALIBAN 

[Starting.] 

Mine !    Who  saith  that  word? 
THE  VOICE 

She  shall 
Be  thine! 

CALIBAN 
How  mine? — Say! 

THE  VOICE 

Thou  shalt  fight  for  her. 


CALIBAN  125 

CALIBAN 

[Pointing  toward  the  Cloudy  Curtains .] 

Shall   fight?    Nay,   there — the   youth  put  by   his 

sword, 

For  the  other  said:  "  Your  gentleness  shall  force 
More  than  your  force  move  us  to  gentleness." 

THE  VOICE 
Yet  thou  shalt  fight! 

CALIBAN 

[Springing  forward  above  his  cell.] 

What  art  thou? 

[From  the  mouth  of  the  cell  a  flame-colored  Figure 
strides  forth  and  replies:] 

THE  FIGURE 

War:  thy  father's 
Priest. — Caliban,  remember  Setebos! 

CALIBAN 

Ha,  Setebos!     Com'st  thou  once  more  with  priest- 
craft 
To  lure  me  back  to  him? — Begone! 

WAR 

Yet  not 
Without  me  shalt  thou  win  Miranda. 


126  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 

[Fiercely} 

Go! 
WAR 

[Returning  within  the  cell,  disappears  as  his  voice  dies 
away.] 

Remember  War !    Miranda  shall  be  thine ! 

CALIBAN 
[Hoarsely.] 
Miranda — mine ! 

ARIEL 

[Comes  running  from  the  throne  entrance} 

Ho,  pupil,  now  be  merry ! 
Great  Prosper  sleeps,  and  from  his  slumber  sends 

thee 
A  dream  of  fairy  laughter. 

CALIBAN 
[Darkly,  amazed} 

Laughter! 

ARIEL 

Aye, 

An  English  make-believe  of  antic  elves 
And  merry  wives,  to  douse  the  lustful  fire 


CALIBAN  127 

Of  old  John  Falstaff ,  lured  to  Windsor  Forest  — 
Our  Master  deems  thou  hast  learned  art  enough 
To  laugh  at  apings  of  it. 

CALIBAN 

[Still  amazed,  but  curious} 

Laugh? 

ARIEL 

Aye,  list! 

[Caliban  stands  on  one  side,  with  arms  folded  and 
listens.] 

To  Windsor's  magic  oak  now  turn: 
There — his  fatty  bulk  in  guise 
Of  the  horned  hunter  Herne— 
Big  Sir  John  in  ambush  lies 
Where  the  counterfeited  fays 
Troop  along  the  forest  ways: 
How  his  lust  will  cease  to  burn 
For  the  Merry  Wives — now  gaze 
Yonder  by  the  oak,  and  learn! 

[Ariel  raises  his  staff.  Parting,  the  Cloudy  Curtains 
disclose 

THE  NINTH  INNER  SCENE 

The  gigantic  trunk  of  an  oak  rises  in  moonlight,  sur- 
rounded by  the  glimmering  purple  of  the  obscure 
forest. 


128  CALIBAN 

Trooping  from  the  left,  enter  the  disguised  Fairies,  follow- 
ing their  leader  Sir  Hugh  Evans.] 

EVANS 

Trib,  trib,  fairies;  come;  and  remember  your  parts: 
be  pold,  I  pray  you ;  follow  me  into  the  pit ;  and  when 
I  give  the  watch  'ords,  do  as  I  pid  you:  Come, 
come ;  trib,  trib. 

[They  conceal  themselves. 

A  distant  chiming  sounds  as  Falstaff  enters,  dis- 
guised as  Herne,  wearing  a  stag's  head  with  great 
horns.] 

FALSTAFF 

The  Windsor  bell  hath  struck  twelve;  the  minute 
draws  on.  Now,  the  hot-blooded  gods  assist  me ! 
Remember,  Jove,  thou  wast  a  bull  for  thy  Europa; 
love  set  on  thy  horns.  O  powerful  love !  That,  in 
some  respects,  makes  a  beast  a  man,  in  some  other 

a  man  a  beast. 

CALIBAN 

[Listening  intently  near  the  edge  of  the  scene.] 

A  man  a  beast! 

FALSTAFF 

Think  on  't,  Jove :  Where  gods  have  hot  backs,  what 
shall  poor  men  do?  For  me,  I  am  here  a  Windsor 
stag;  and  the  fattest,  I  think,  i'  the  forest.  Send 
me  a  cool  rut-time,  Jove !  Who  comes  here?  My 
doe? 

[Enter  Mistress  Ford  and  Mistress  Page.] 


CALIBAN  129 

MRS.  FORD 

Sir  John!  Art  thou  there,  my  deer?  My  male 
deer? 

FALSTAFF 

My  doe  with  the  black  scut !  Let  the  sky  rain  potatoes, 
let  it  thunder  to  the  tune  of  green  sleeves;  I  will 
shelter  me  here. 

MRS.  FORD 
Mistress  Page  is  come  with  me,  sweetheart. 

FALSTAFF 

Divide  me  like  a  bribe  buck,  each  a  haunch :  Am  I  a 
woodman,  ha?  Speak  I  like  Herne  the  hunter? 
As  I  am  a  true  spirit,  welcome ! 

[Noise  within.] 

MRS.  PAGE 

Alas,  what  noise? 

MRS.  FORD 
Heaven  forgive  our  sins ! 

FALSTAFF 
What  should  this  be? 

MRS.  PAGE  AND  MRS.  FORD 

Away !    Away ! 
[They  run  off.] 


130  CALIBAN 

FALSTAFF 

I  think  the  devil  will  not  have  me  damned,  lest  the  oil 
that's  in  me  should  set  hell  on  fire ;  he  would  never 
else  cross  me  thus. 

[Enter  Sir  Hugh  Evans,  disguised  as  before ;  Pistol, 
as  Hobgoblin;  Mistress  Quickly,  Anne  Page,  and 
others  as  Fairies,  with  tapers.] 

MRS.  QUICKLY 

Fames,  black,  gray,  green,  and  white, 

You  moonshine  revellers,  and  shades  of  night, 

You  orphan  heirs  of  fixed  destiny, 

Attend  your  office  and  your  quality. 

Crier  Hobgoblin,  make  the  fairy  oyes. 

PISTOL 
Elves,  list  your  names ;  silence,  you  airy  toys ! 

FALSTAFF 

They  are  fairies ;  he  that  speaks  to  them  shall  die : 
I'll  wink  and  couch :  no  man  their  works  must  eye. 
[He  lies  upon  his  face.] 

EVANS 

Where's  Bede?    Go  you,  and  where  you  find  a  maid 
That,  ere  she  sleeps,  has  thrice  her  prayers  said, 
Raise  up  the  organs  of  her  fantasy; 


CALIBAN  131 

Sleep  she  as  sound  as  careless  infancy ! 
But  those  as  sleep  and  think  not  on  their  sins 
Pinch  them,  arms,  legs,  backs,  shoulders,  sides,  and 
shins! 

CALIBAN 

[Growing  excitedly  absorbed.] 
Ha,  pinch  them,  saith! 

MRS.  QUICKLY 

Away;  disperse:  but  till  'tis  one  o'clock, 
Our  dance  of  custom  round  about  the  oak 
Of  Herne  the  hunter,  let  us  not  forget. 

EVANS 

Pray  you,  lock  hand  in  hand;  yourselves  in  order  set; 
And  twenty  glow-worms  shall  our  lanterns  be 
To  guide  our  measure  round  about  the  tree. 
But,  stay;  I  smell  a  man  of  middle-earth. 

FALSTAFF 

Heaven  defend  me  from  that  Welsh  fairy,  lest  he 
transform  me  to  a  piece  of  cheese ! 

PISTOL 
Vile  worm,  thou  wast  o'erlook'd  even  in  thy  birth. 


132  CALIBAN 

MRS.  QUICKLY 

With  trial-fire  touch  me  his  finger-end: 
If  he  be  chaste,  the  flame  will  back  descend 
And  turn  him  to  no  pain ;  but  if  he  start, 
It  is  the  flesh  of  a  corrupted  heart. 

PISTOL 

A  trial,  come. 

EVANS 

Come,  will  this  wood  take  fire? 
[They  burn  him  with  their  tapers.] 

FALSTAFF 

Oh!  Oh!  Oh! 

CALIBAN 

[Crying  out.] 

Ah,  ah!    They  plague  him,  too! 

MRS.  QUICKLY 

Corrupt,  corrupt,  and  tainted  in  desire ! 
About  him,  Fairies ;  sing  a  scornful  rhyme ; 
And,  as  you  trip,  still  pinch  him  to  your  time. 

ALL 

[As  they  dance  about  him,  pinch,  burn  him,  and 
sing:] 

Fie  on  sinful  fantasy! 
Fie  on  lust  and  luxury ! 


CALIBAN  133 

Lust  is  but  a  bloody  fire 

Kindled  with  unchaste  desire, 

Fed  in  heart,  whose  flames  aspire 

As  thoughts  do  blow  them,  higher  and  higher. 

Pinch  him,  Fairies,  mutually; 

Pinch  him  for  his  villany ; 

Pinch  him,  and  burn  him,  and  turn  him  about, 

Till  candles  and  starlight  and  moonshine  be  out ! 

FALSTAFF 

[Rising  and  pulling  off  his  buck's  head,  cries  out :] 
Oh!  Oh  !Oh! 

[As  he  is  about  to  flee,  tormented  by  the  dancing 
figures, 

THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE 
CALIBAN 

[Bursting  into  bitter  laughter.} 

Ah— ha,  ha! 

"Corrupt,  corrupt,  and  tainted  in  desire!" 

Mocketh  me,  mocketh  me,  ah! — A  man  with  horns 

And  heart  of  monster! 

[Striding  fiercely  toward  Ariel} 

He  mocketh  me,  thy  lord! 

ARIEL 

[Laughing  silver ly.] 

Why,  'tis  but  fairy  sport  for  laughter. 


134  CALIBAN 

CALIBAN 
[With  choking  passion.] 

Laughter! 

Ah-ha!    Me,  too — me,  too,  thy  spirits  plagued 
And  pinched,  to  piping  jigs. 

[Seizing  Ariel.] 

I  tell  thee,  smiling 
Spirit,  thy  laughter  scorcheth  me  with  nettles, 

[Pointing  toward  the  curtains.] 

And  that  hot  bulk  of  lust  hath  made  my  loins 
To  rage  with  boiling  blood. 

ARIEL 
[Struggling] 

Unclutch  thy  hand! 
CALIBAN 

Not  till  I  bleed  that  oil  of  laughter  from  thee 
Which  lappeth  me  in  flame. 

THE  VOICE  OF  WAR 
[Calls  deeply  from  below] 

Hail,  Caliban! 

CALIBAN 

[Pausing,  releases  Ariel,  and  listens] 
Callest  me,  War? 


CALIBAN  135 

THE  VOICE 
Miranda  shall  be  thine! 

CALIBAN 

Mine! — Yea,  now  I  am  mocked  to  know  myself 
What  rutting  stag  I  am!    And  her,  the  doe 
I  mate,  my  horns  shall  battle  for,  and  be 
Mine  own — mine,  mine!     Miranda! 

MIRANDA 

[Coming  from  within,  right,  raises  her  hand  in  gentle 
warning.] 

Hush  thy  tone; 
My  father  slumbers  yet. 
[Showing  Prosperous  hood,  which  she  carries.] 

He  hath  put  by 

This  hood,  wherein  he  sends  thee  here  another 
Visioning. 

CALIBAN 

[Stares  at  her,  breathing  hard.] 
So:  what  now? 

ARIEL 
[To  Miranda.] 

He  rages,  Mistress, 
Beware !    He  babbleth  of  War. 


136  CALIBAN 

MIRANDA 

Why,  then  he  conjures 

The  dream  my  father  sends :  another  picture, 
Painted  in  gules  on  England's  ancient  shield: 
King  Harry,  by  the  high  walls  of  Harfleur. 
[To  Caliban} 

So  you  may  learn,  good  friend,  how  noblest  natures 
Are  moved  to  tiger  passions — by  a  painting 
Called  Honor,  dearer  than  their  brothers'  lives. 

CALIBAN 
Why  will  he  show  me  this? 

MIRANDA 

Perchance  that  you, 

Born  of  a  tiger's  loins,  seeing  that  picture, 
May  recognize  an  image  of  yourself 
And  so  recoil  to  reason  and  to  love. 

CALIBAN 
So,  mocketh  me  once  more? 

MIRANDA 

Nay,  never  that. 
But  let  us  look  thereon,  and  learn  together. 

CALIBAN 

[Starts  toward  her,  but  curbs  himself,  trembling] 
Together! 


CALIBAN  137 

MIRANDA 
[To  Ariel.] 

Hold  his  magic  hood  and  conjure. 

ARIEL 

[Taking  the  hood  of  Prosper '0.] 

Image  of  Strife,  may  never  more 

Your  like  draw  near! 
Pageant  of  long-forgotten  War, 

Appear! 
Harry  of  England,  lo,  is  here! 

[As  Ariel  lifts  Prosperous  hood  on  the  staff,  the  Cloiidy 
Curtains  part,  and  discover 

THE  TENTH  INNER  SCENE 

Before  high  mediaeval  walls,  partly  shattered,  to  pealing 
of  trumpets,  appear  in  their  armor,  King  Henry  the 
Fifth,  and  his  nobles,  surrounded  by  soldiers,  with 
cross-bows  and  scaling-ladders. 

Standing  above  on  a  parapet,  the  King  is  exhorting  them 
with  vehement  ardor. 

KING  HENRY 

Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once  more, 
Or  close  the  wall  up  with  the  English  dead! 
In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility: 


138  CALIBAN 

But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger; 
Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood, 
Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-favor'd  rage ; 
Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect.     .     .     . 
Hold  hard  the  breath  and  bend  up  every  spirit 
To  his  full  height.  On,  on,  you  noble  English, 
Whose  blood  is  f et  from  fathers  of  War-proof !    .    .    . 
Be  copy  now  to  men  of  grosser  blood, 
And  teach  them  how  to  war.    And  you,  good  yeomen, 
Whose  limbs  were  made  in  England,  show  us  here 
The  mettle  of  your  pasture ;  let  us  swear 
That  you  are  worth  your  breeding,  which  I  doubt 

not.     .     .     . 

I  see  you  stand  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips, 
Straining  upon  the  start.    The  game's  afoot. 
Follow  your  spirit,  and  upon  this  charge 
Cry,  "God  for  Harry,  England,  and  Saint  George!" 

THE  SOLDIERS 
[With  a  great  shout.] 
Ho,  God  for  Harry,  England,  and  Saint  George ! 

[As  they  leap  forward,  to  the  blare  of  trumpets,  and 
begin  to  scale  the  ladders, 

THE  CLOUDY  CURTAINS  CLOSE 

[Instantly  Caliban,  seizing  from  the  staff  the  hood  of 
Prospero,  shakes  it  aloft  and  shouts:] 


CALIBAN  139 

CALIBAN 

Ho,  God  for  Caliban  and  Setebos ! 
War,  War  for  Prosper's  throne!     Miranda's  shrine! 
[A  booming  detonation  resounds,  and  a  roar  of  voices 
from  below.] 

THE  VOICES 
Caliban,  Caliban,  hail! 

[From  the  throne-entrance  Prospero — unhooded — has- 
tens in,  surrounded  by  the  Spirits  of  Ariel,  bearing 
long  shining  lances.  Mounting  swiftly  the  throne 
and  joined  by  Ariel  and  Miranda,  Prospero  calls 
to  Caliban,  who — wearing  his  hood  and  lifting  his 
staff — strides  toward  him.] 

PROSPERO 

[His  unhooded  features  revealing  their  likeness  to  Shake- 
speare's.] 

Who  wakes  my  sleep 
With  these  usurping  thunders? 

CALIBAN 

War  and  I! 
Now  Setebos  returns,  and  thou  art  fallen! 

IX  second  detonation  booms. 

Red  glare  bursts  from  Caliban's  cell,  and  War  rushes 
forth  with  the  Powers  of  Setebos,  clad  in  his  flaring 


140  CALIBAN 

habiliments  j  followed  by  the  groups  of  Lust  and 

Death. 
Bearing  lighted  torches,  amid  the  roaring  of  Setebos 

choruses,  flashing  fireworks  and  bombs,  they  swarm 

upon  the  half-obscure  stage. 
Led  by  War,  the  flame-colored  hordes  clash  with  the 

Spirits  of  Ariel,  overcome  them,  and  take  captive 

Miranda,  Prosper o,  and  Ariel. 

As  War  holds  Miranda  in  his  power,  Prosper  o  con- 
fronts Caliban  who — wearing  his  hood  and  raising 

his  staff — exults  before  him:} 

Hail,  Prospero!    Who  now  is  master-artist! 
Who  wieldeth  now  the  world? 

PROSPERO 

Hail,  Caliban! 

Slumbering,  from  me  thou  robb'st  my  hood  and  staff 
Which  wield  my  power;  yet  not  mine  art  they  wield 
Without  my  will :  my  will  thou  canst  not  rob 
Nor  ravish. 

CALIBAN 

[With  eyes  gleaming.] 

But  Miranda! 

PROSPERO 

Nay,  nor  her: 
For  she  is  charmed  against  thy  body's  rape 


CALIBAN  141 

By  chastity  of  soul.     Thy  will  and  War 

May  break,  but  cannot  build  the  world:  And  One, 

Who  bore  us  all  within  her  womb,  still  lives 

To  stanch  our  wounds  with  her  immortal  healing. 

CALIBAN 

Where? 

PROSPERO 

[Pointing] 

Yonder,  on  the  Yellow  Sands!    She  rises  now 
And  calls  across  the  tides  of  fleeting  change 
Her  deathless  artists  of  the  plastic  mind — 
My  art  that  builds  the  beauty  of  the  world. 


EPILOGUE 

Where  Prospero  points,  the  light  passes  from  the 
pageant  of  War  to  the  centre  of  the  Yellow  Sands. 

There,  in  mellow  splendor,  a  serene  female  Figure, 
rising  majestic  from  the  altar,  calls  to  the  thronging 
shadows. 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  TIME 

Children  of  men,  my  passionate  children,  hark! 
To-day  and  Yesterday  I  am  To-morrow: 

Out  of  my  primal  dark 

You  dawn — my  joy,  my  sorrow. 

Lovers  of  life,  you  rapturous  lovers,  lo 

The  lives  you  clutch  are  by  my  lightnings  riven: 

Yea,  on  my  flux  and  flow, 

Like  sea-birds  tempest-driven. 

Yet  from  my  founts  of  life,  fecund,  divine, 
Still  dauntless  lovers  dare  my  dark  tribunal, 

Building  a  common  shrine 

To  hold  their  love  communal. 
142 


CALIBAN  143 

So  out  of  War  up  looms  unconquered  Art: 

Blind  forces  rage,  but  masters  rise  to  mould  them. 

Soldiers  and  kings  depart; 

Time's  artists — still  behold  them! 

As  the  Spirit  of  Time  ceases  to  speak,  the  light  passes 
to  the  entrances  of  the  Greek  ground-circle,  where  now — 
from  either  side — enters  a  Pageant  of  the  great  Theatres 
of  the  world— from  the  ancient  Theatre  of  Dionysus  to 
the  Comedie  Francaise — in  symbolic  groups,  with  their 
distinctive  banners  and  insignia.  The  names  of  these 
are  blazoned  on  their  group  standards,  and  the  groups 
themselves  [like  those  that  follow]  are  announced  from 
either  end  of  the  high  balcony  above  the  inner  stage  by  two 
spirit  Trumpeters,  the  one  beneath  a  glowing  disk  of  the 
sun,  the  other  beneath  a  sickle  moon. 

While  these,  below,  have  ranged  themselves  on  the 
ground-circle  and  steps  above — the  groups  of  War, 
Lust,  and  Death  have  dwindled  away  in  the  background 
darkness — leaving  only  Prospero,  Miranda,  and  Ariel, 
grouped  in  light  at  the  centre. 

Then  on  either  wing  of  the  stage,  at  right  and  left, 
appears  luminous  a  colossal  mask — the  one  of  Tragedy, 
the  other  of  Comedy.  Through  the  mouths  of  these,  now 
come  forth,  in  national  pageant  groups*  the  creators 
of  the  art  of  the  theatre  from  antiquity  to  the  verge  of  the 
living  present:  the  world-famed  actors,  dramatists, 

*For  details  of  these  Epilogue  groups,  see  Appendix,  pages  205-216. 


144  CALIBAN 

producers,  musicians,  directors,  and  inventors  of  its 
art. 

First  come  the  great  Actors,  in  the  guise  of  their  great- 
est roles— from  Thespis  and  Roscius  of  old  to  Irving, 
Salvini,  Coquelin,  Booth,  of  modern  times,  the  comic 
actors  tumbling  forth  from  the  Mask  of  Comedy,  the 
tragic  from  the  Tragic  Mask. 

They  are  followed  by  national  groups  of  the  great 
Dramatists  from  Mschylus  to  Ibsen,  who  pass  in  review 
before  Prospero. 

Among  these,  with  the  Elizabethan  Dramatists, 
grouped  with  Marlowe,  Green,  Jonson,  Beaumont,  and 
Fletcher,  and  others,  appears  the  modest  figure  of 
Shakespeare,  at  first  unemphasized. 

For  one  moment,  however,  as  Shakespeare  himself 
approaches  Prospero,  he  pauses,  Prospero  rises,  and  the 
two  figures — strangely  counterparts  to  their  beholders — 
look  in  each  other's  eyes:  a  moment  only.  For  Prospero, 
slipping  off  his  cloak,  lays  it  on  the  shoulders  of  Shake- 
speare, who  sits  in  Prosperous  place,  while  Prospero 
moves  silently  of  with  the  group  of  Dramatists. 

Finally,  when  these  pageants  of  Time  have  passed, 
and  the  stately  Spirit  of  Time  vanished  in  dark  on  the 
Yellow  Sands,  the  only  light  remains  on  the  figure  of 
Shakespeare — and  the  two  with  him:  Ariel  tiptoe  be- 
hind him,  peering  over  his  shoulder;  Miranda  beside  him, 
leaning  forward,  with  lips  parted  to  speak. 


CALIBAN  145 

Then  to  these,  out  of  the  dimness,  comes  forth  Caliban. 
Groping,  dazed,  he  reaches  his  arms  toward  the  dark 
circle,  where  the  stately  Spirit  has  vanished.  In  a  voice 
hoarse  with  feeling,  he  speaks  aloud. 

CALIBAN 

Lady  of  the  Yellow  Sands!    O  Life!     O  Time! 
Thy  tempest  blindeth  me:  Thy  beauty  baffleth. — 
A  little  have  I  crawled,  a  little  only 
Out  of  mine  ancient  cave.     All  that  I  build 
I  botch;  all  that  I  do  destroyeth  my  dream. 
Yet — yet  I  yearn  to  build,  to  be  thine  Artist 
And  stablish  this  thine  Earth  among  the  stars- 
Beautiful! 

[Turning  to  the  light,  where  the  Three  are  grouped.] 

— O  bright  Beings,  help  me  still! 
More  visions — visions,  Master! 

[With  gesture  of  longing,  he  crouches  at  Shakespeare's 
feet,  gazing  up  in  his  face,  which  looks  on  him 
with  tenderness.  With  Caliban,  Miranda  too  ap- 
peals to  the  Cloaked  Figure.] 

MIRANDA 

[Wistfully.] 

—Master? 
[To  her  raised  eyes,  he  returns  a  pensive  smile.] 


146  CALIBAN 

SHAKESPEARE 

[As  Prospero]  "Child, 

Our  revels  now  are  ended.    These  our  actors, 
As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits  and 
Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air: 
And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision, 
The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve, 
And,  like  this  unsubstantial  pageant  faded, 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind.    We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  on,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep." 

[Then,  while  the  light  fo cusses  and  fades  in  darkness  on 
the  pensive  form  of  Shakespeare,  the  choirs  of 
Ariel's  Spirits  repeat,  unseen,  in  song:] 

THE  SPIRITS  OF  ARIEL 

'  lWe  are  such  stuff 

As  dreams  are  made  on,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep." 

FINIS 


APPENDIX 


CONTENTS  OF  APPENDIX 

1.  FOREWORD 

2.  PERSONS  AND  PRESENCES  (or  THE  TEN  INNER 
SCENES) 

3.  INTERLUDES  I,  II,  III 

4.  EPILOGUE 

5.  ANNOUNCEMENTS 


FOREWORD 

The  actors  of  a  Community  Masque  being  mem- 
bers of  the  community,  it  becomes  the  function  of 
the  Masque-director  to  reverse  the  traditional  order 
of  theatrical  procedure  and — so  far  as  possible — to 
take  the  public,  as  participants,  into  the  confidence 
of  "behind  the  scenes"  beforehand. 

If  this  were  a  play  only  [in  the  Broadway  sense], 
I  should  gather  together  my  staff  and  company  for 
a  preliminary  reading,  assign  parts,  devise  plans  of 
rehearsal,  and  get  personally  in  touch  with  the  com- 
paratively few  persons  involved  in  its  production. 
Being,  however,  a  new  kind  of  drama,  involving  some 
thousands  of  persons  as  actors,  and  some  scores  of 
leaders  as  a  projected  staff,  it  becomes  practically 
necessary  to  print  and  publish,  before  production, 
not  only  the  foregoing  spoken  and  sung  Masque- 
Proper,  but  the  sketched-in  outlines  of  the  non- 
speaking  Interludes  which  follow. 

In  the  nature  of  the  case,  these  outlines  are  pre- 
liminary and  [though  necessarily  printed  here]  are 
still  plastic  and  susceptible  to  various  modifications. 
Thus  publication  at  the  moment  in  New  York  is 


iS2  APPENDIX 

essentially  for  the  purpose  of  rendering  each  of  the 
hundreds  of  participants  more  intimately  familiar 
with  his  or  her  special  relationship  [as  group  par- 
ticipant or  group  principal]  to  the  work  as  a  whole. 

To  this  is  also  added  the  need  for  making  its  text 
and  stage-directions  available  to  communities  out- 
side of  New  York,  which  have  already  expressed 
their  desire  to  organize  for  its  production  after  next 
May. 

An  interesting  American  phase  of  the  New  York 
production  is  the  problem  of  carrying  its  community 
meaning  to  the  still  polyglot  population,  so  that 
steps  have  been  taken  for  the  immediate  translation 
of  the  Masque  into  Italian,  German,  and  Yiddish. 

By  referring  to  the  chart  INNER  STRUCTURE,  the 
reader  will  see  that  it  offers  a  technical  solution 
for  the  participation  of  about  a  dozen  national  and 
civic  groups  within  the  time  limits  of  the  festival, 
without  disintegrating  the  organic  unity  of  the  plot 
and  action  of  the  drama,  with  which  the  actions  of 
the  various  groups  are  fused  and  synthesized.  This 
form  of  technique  [the  result  of  some  years  of  thought 
and  experiment  in  this  field]  contributes  a  basis 
for  the  future  development  of  the  outdoor  commu- 
nity art  of  the  theatre,  on  a  scale  adapted  to  modern 
cities. 

The  Masque  thus  becomes,  so  to  speak,  a  Masque 


APPENDIX  153 

of  Masques.  For  example,  the  seven-minute  Don 
Giovanni  pantomime  scene-plot  of  the  Spanish  and 
Italian  Action  in  Interlude  II  [of  which  Mr.  Ernest 
Peixotto  is  the  community  group-chairman]  is  being 
enlarged,  under  Mr.  Peixotto's  direction,  into  the 
spring  festival  of  the  MacDowell  Club,  performed 
locally  at  its  clubhouse,  lasting  an  hour  and  a  half, 
for  the  Prologue  of  which  the  author  has  written  the 
dialogue. 

So  each  of  the  other  Interlude  Actions,  necessarily 
brief  in  time-limit,  is  itself  a  potential  Masque  or 
festival,  capable  of  being  developed  locally  into  larger 
proportions.  And  this  is  being  done  in  New  York 
in  the  case  of  several  other  of  the  Interlude  Actions. 

At  the  present  date,  among  those  who  are  actively 
interested  in  the  production  side  of  the  Interludes, 
are  the  Misses  Lewisohn,  and  their  associates  of  the 
Neighborhood  Playhouse,  for  interpreting  the  Egyp- 
tian; Mr.  Franklin  Sargent  of  the  American  Academy 
of  Dramatic  Arts,  in  association  with  members  of  the 
Greek  Colony,  for  the  Greek;  Mr.  Arturo  Giovan- 
nitti  [who,  as  poet,  is  also  translating  the  Masque 
into  Italian]  and  members  of  the  Italian  colony,  for 
the  Roman;  Mr.  Otto  J.  Merkel,  and  members  of 
the  German  University  League,  for  the  German; 
Mr.  Charles  A.  Donner  and  members  of  the  Alliance 
Francaise,  for  the  French;  Mr.  Rene  Wildenstein,  Mr. 


i$4  APPENDIX 

Peixotto,  and  members  of  the  Spanish-speaking  com- 
munity, for  the  Spanish-Italian;  the  New  York  Branch 
of  the  English  Folk-Dance  Society,  under  direction 
of  Mr.  Cecil  Sharp,  for  the  Interlude  of  Elizabethan 
England;  the  American  Academy  and  National  Insti- 
tute of  Arts  and  Letters  [Chairman,  Mr.  William 
Dean  Ho  wells],  for  the  Epilogue. 

As  indicated  in  the  Inner  Structure  Chart,  an  Ac- 
tion of  ancient  India*  was  originally  planned  for  the 
beginning  of  Interlude  I.  This  was  chiefly  devised, 
in  conference  with  the  author  and  director,  by  the 
director  of  the  community  Interludes,  Mr.  Garnet 
Holme,  who  has  brought  to  this  New  York  production 
his  very  valuable  experience  in  directing  outdoor 
festivals  in  California  and  England.  Owing,  how- 
ever, to  brevity  of  time  and  the  pressure  of  organiza- 
tion details,  this  Action  has  been  omitted  from  the 
production  in  May. 

Of  the  other  members  of  the  producing  staff  of 
the  Interludes,  Mrs.  Robert  Anderson  contributes 
to  her  direction  of  the  community  dances  her  admi- 
rable knowledge  of  the  subject,  and  Mrs.  John  W. 

*The  plan  for  this  India  episode  is  based  on  a  ritual  scene  of  the  ancient 
Hindu  drama  "Shakuntala,"  by  Kalidasa,  translated  by  Garnet  Holme 
and  Arthur  W.  Ryder,  and  recently  produced  by  the  authors  in  California. 
The  translation  is  published  by  University  of  California  Press,  Berkeley, 
1914.  Those  communities  that  may  desire  to  include  this  Action  in  their 
local  festivals  should  communicate  with  Mr.  Garnet  Holme,  care  of  The 
Shakespeare  Celebration,  10  East  43rd  Street,  New  York  City. 


GOW\\JNITy  MASQXJE 

tt  C/^LlByRN  * 

IMHEK  STKXJGTXJRE-,  . 


IST INTERLUDE 
JHDIfl    EGYPT 


GREECE 


ROAVE 


2~INTERtXIDE 
GERWRNlC 


FRENCH 


SPflh«SM 


ELIZABETHAN  ENGLflND 


SHADED:  MASQUE  PROPER:  SPEAKING  ACTORS  (ABOUT  30) 
MUTE  FIGURANTS  (ABOUT  300) 
INVISIBLE  CHOIRS 
ACTION  ON  STAGES  A  &  B  OF  GROUND  PLAN 

WHITE:  INTERLUDES  &  EPILOGUE:  NON-SPEAKING  PARTICIPANTS  (ABOUT  2,OOo) 

VISIBLE  CHORUSES 
COMMUNITY  DANCES 
PANTOMIME  ACTING 
MASS  MOVEMENTS 
ACTION  ON  STAGE  C  OF  GROUND  PLAN 


APPENDIX  155 

Alexander  to  the  Interlude  costuming  [in  association 
with  Mr.  Urban  and  Mr.  Jones]  the  excellent  insight 
and  artistry  which  contributed  so  much  [with  the 
work  of  her  husband,  the  late  President  of  the  Acad- 
emy] to  the  impressiveness  of  the  "Joan  of  Arc" 
stadium  performance  at  Harvard,  and  other  pro- 
ductions of  Maude  Adams  and  Charles  Frohman. 

In  the  following  descriptions  of  the  Interlude  Ac- 
tions, the  numbers  of  community  actors  are  based  on 
an  arbitrary  computation  [at  this  date]  of  a  total  of 
1,500,  at  least  double  which  number  will  require  to 
be  enlisted  to  make  sure  of  sufficient  persons  for 
the  five  New  York  performances.  The  numbers  here 
printed,  however,  are  purely  tentative  and  are  sub- 
ject to  modification.  Of  the  terms  used  for  commun- 
ity actors,  the  term  Participants  means  those  who 
take  part  in  the  Interludes  only;  Figurants  those 
who  also  take  part  in  groups  of  the  Masque  Proper; 
Specials  those  who  take  part  only  in  the  special 
group,  or  groups,  designated. 

In  the  projected  tour  of  the  Masque  outside  of 
New  York,  a  modified  performance  of  the  Masque, 
on  a  smaller  scale,  when  acted  without  the  Interludes, 
will  require,  in  local  community  actors,  only  the  Fig- 
urants. 

It  will  be  evident,  I  think,  to  the  reader,  that  the 
organization  of  a  community  for  a  Masque  perform- 


156  APPENDIX 

ance  on  so  large  a  scale  is  a  special  technique,  only 
recently  in  process  of  development.  As  a  contribu- 
tion to  this  technique,  the  appended  Community 
Organization  Chart  has  been  drawn  up  by  my  sister, 
Hazel  MacKaye,  who  has  brought  to  it  her  experi- 
ence, of  several  years,  in  organizing  and  directing 
community  pageants  and  masques,  some  of  them  of 
her  own  authorship. 

Space  and  time  do  not  permit  of  further  comment 
in  this  Foreword  on  many  important  social  relation- 
ships and  reactions  involved  in  this  new  community 
art.  The  accompanying  photograph,  however,  of  a 
Community  Masque  audience — 150,000  citizens  of 
Saint  Louis  gathered  in  May,  1914,  to  witness  the 
Pageant  and  Masque  of  Saint  Louis,  in  which  over 
7, ooo  of  their  fellow-citizens  took  part — may  be  sug- 
gestive to  the  imagination  of  the  reader.  On  the 
background  may  be  seen,  at  centre,  the  thousand- 
foot  stage,  and,  at  left  and  right,  the  tents  of  the 
community  actors,  men  and  women. 

Space  and  time  also  do  not  permit  of  any  adequate 
emphasis  upon  the  enormous  importance,  and  con- 
tribution to  this  growing  art-form,  of  music  in  its 
community  aspects.  In  this  respect,  the  splendid 
pioneering  work  of  Mr.  Harry  H.  Barnhart  in  cre- 
ating community  choruses  in  Rochester  and  New 
York  City  is  fundamentally  significant.  In  the 


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APPENDIX  157 

creative  field  of  composition,  rich  in  its  manifold 
promise,  Mr.  Arthur  Farwell,  director  of  the  New 
York  Music  School  Settlement,  and  composer  of  the 
music  of  this  Masque,  has  devoted  probably  more 
attention  than  any  other  American  composer  to  this 
community  type  of  musical  art. 

To  the  Shakespeare  Celebration  of  New  York,  since 
its  origin  last  year  in  activities  of  the  Drama  League, 
Miss  Mary  Porter  Beegle,  of  Barnard  College,  has 
contributed  her  unflagging  zest  and  enthusiasm,  Mr. 
Howard  Kyle  his  disinterested,  manifold  services, Miss 
Kate  Oglebay  her  remarkable  thoroughness  in  organ- 
izing the  Supplementary  Celebrations. 

In  his  original  and  deeply  based  work  of  experiment, 
through  channels  of  the  People's  Institute  and  the 
School  for  Community  Centre  Workers,  Mr.  John 
Collier  has  shown  fundamental  leadership  in  a  field 
all-important  to  the  community  purposes  of  this 
Masque:  the  modern  economics  and  organization  of 
cooperative  art. 

As  this  Foreword  goes  to  press,  Prof.  Richard  Or- 
dynski  has  joined  Mr.  Urban  in  the  work  of  the 
Masque's  New  York  production. 

To  Mr.  Everard  Thompson,  producers  and  com- 
mittees alike  are  indebted  for  his  unfailing,  friendly 
resourcefulness. 

As  references  to  the  reader  curious  to  study  the  art 


158  APPENDIX 

of  the  theatre  in  the  eras  touched  upon  in  these 
Interludes,  a  lengthy  Bibliography  might  well  be 
submitted.  For  this  Foreword,  it  may  suffice  to 
refer  to  three  very  useful  works,  in  several  volumes, 
viz:  "The  Drama,"  Editor  Alfred  Bates,  Historical 
Publishing  Company  [a  dozen  volumes];  "The 
Art  of  the  Theatre,"  Karl  Manzius,  Scribners, 
[5  volumes];  "The  Theatre,  Its  Development  in 
France  and  England,  and  a  History  of  Its  Greek  and 
Latin  Origins,"  Charles  Hastings,  London,  Duck- 
worth, 1902  [and  Lippincott]. 

The  beneficial  possibilities  of  community  festival 
art  and  organization  are,  of  course,  commensurate 
with  the  time  and  opportunity  afforded  for  their 
development.  As  mentioned  hi  the  Preface,  the 
tune  for  the  New  York  production  has,  by  unavoid- 
able circumstance,  become  far  too  brief  to  accomplish, 
between  the  present  date  and  the  23rd  of  May  the 
deep  social  reactions  potential  in  this  festival.  A 
year,  instead,  for  the  work  of  preparation  would  be 
none  too  much.  It  is  hoped,  however,  that  the  pro- 
duction of  this  Masque  may  at  least  help  to  establish 
the  festival  movement  in  New  York  on  a  sound  and 
perennial  community  basis. 

PERCY  MACKAYE. 

New  York,  March  26,  1916. 


PERSONS  AND  PRESENCES 

OF  THE  TEN  INNER  SCENES 
[Enacted  by  the  Spirits  of  Ariel.] 

FIRST  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
Antony 
Cleopatra 
Charmian 
Eros 

PANTOMIME  GROUPS 
Roman  Soldiers 

Egyptian  Populace 
Flutists 
Harpists 
Wine  Bearers 

SECOND  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 

Cressida 

Her  Attendant 

Pandarus 

Boy 

Troilus 

MUTE  PERSONS 
Hecuba 
Helen 
JEneas 
Antenor 
Hector 
Paris 
Helenus 

159 


160  APPENDIX 

PANTOMIME  GROUPS 
Trojan  Warriors 
Trojan  Populace 

THIRD  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
Brutus 

Lucius,  a  boy 
Ghost  of  Caesar 

MUTE  PRESENCES 
Shapes  in  the  Darkness 

FOURTH  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
SAINT  AGNES  [An  Image] 
A  SHEPHERD  [Impersonated  by  Prospero] 
A  SHEPHERD  BOY  [Impersonated  by  Ariel] 
OTHER  SHEPHERDS 

FIFTH  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
Hamlet 

Horatio 
Marcellus 

MUTE  PERSONS 
The  Ghost  of  Hamlet's  Father 

SIXTH  INNER  SCENE 

[Derivative  from  Shakespeare] 

PANTOMIME  PERSONS  AND  GROUPS 
King  Henry  the  Eighth,  of  England 
King  Francis  the  First,  of  France 
Their  Soldiers  and  Followers 


APPENDIX  161 

SEVENTH  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
Benvolio 
Mercutio 
Romeo 
Juliet 
Lorenzo 
Florizel 
Perdita 

MUTE  PERSONS 
Jessica 

EIGHTH  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
Orlando 
Jacques 
Duke 
Adam 

PANTOMIME  GROUPS 

Foresters  of  Arden 

NINTH  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS 
Sir  Hugh  Evans  [as  Fairy] 
Sir  John  Falstaff 
Mistress  Ford 
Mistress  Page 
Mistress  Quickly  [as  Fairy] 
Pistol  [as  Hobgoblin] 

PANTOMIME  GROUPS 
Fairies  [Counterfeited  by  Followers  of  Sir  Hugh] 

TENTH  INNER  SCENE 

SPEAKING  PERSONS  AND  GROUPS 
King  Henry  the  Fifth 
His  Soldiers  and  Followers 


INTERLUDE  I 
FIRST  ACTION:  EGYPTIAN 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [148] 
Comprise 

PARTICIPANTS  [75] 
FIGURANTS  [73] 

Osiris,  the  god  of  summer  and  fecundity. 
Worshippers  of  Osiris  [Men  and  Women]. 
7  Groups,  each  group  comprising 
15  Dancers  [Parts  &  Figs.] 
5  Drum-players,  Followers  [Parts  and  Figs.] 
i  Priest  Leader  [Participant] 
Total  Dancers   .........     105 

"      Drum-players     .......       35 

140 
"      Leaders  .........         7 


Osiris       ...........         i 

148 
162 


APPENDIX  163 

THEME 

Egyptian  Worshippers  of  the  god  Osiris,  B.  C. 
1000,  celebrate  his  resurrection  from  death  by  a 
dramatic  ritual,  symbolizing  how  the  seven  portions 
of  his  rended  body  unite  again  at  his  rebirth. 

ACTION 

At  the  deep  pealing  of  gongs,  from  each  of  the 
three  entrances  to  the  ground-circle,  two  diverging 
Processions  issue  forth,  a  seventh  issuing  from  the 
cell  of  Caliban.  All  are  dressed  in  robes  and  con- 
cealing masks  of  black. 

Slowly,  to  the  rhythmic  beat  of  Egyptian  drums 
[borne  by  the  last  five  in  each  procession],  by  seven 
separate  routes,  they  move  out  upon  the  Yellow 
Sands,  and  so  converge  toward  the  altar  at  the 
centre. 

Within  about  a  rod  of  the  altar  they  pause,  while 
their  seven  Priest-Leaders  move  forward — each 
bearing  a  fire  urn — to  the  altar,  on  which  an  immense 
circular  disk  lies.  On  the  disk,  a  prone  Shape  lies 
concealed  beneath  a  black  cloth. 

Bowing  before  the  altar,  the  seven  Priests  then  rise 
and,  mounting  the  steps,  extend  their  arms  to  touch 
the  rim  of  the  disk.  Thus — their  black  masks  turned 
skyward — they  raise  their  shrill  voices  in  a  mournful 
Egyptian  chant. 


164  APPENDIX 

Moving  then  backward  to  the  ground,  they  drop 
incense  within  their  seven  urns,  from  which  rise  seven 
pillars  of  smoke,  lighted  by  the  glow  of  fire  beneath. 

In  this  increasing  glow,  the  black  Shape  on  the 
disk  stirs,  slowly  rises  beneath  its  dark  cloth,  and 
extends  upward  its  hidden  arms.  During  this,  the 
drums  beat  from  a  low  muffled  cadence  increasingly 
to  a  loud  rolling  rhythm,  to  which  now — at  a  shrill 
choral  cry  from  all  the  worshippers — the  black  cloth 
on  the  central  Shape  sloughs  to  its  feet,  revealing— 
in  a  burst  of  radiant  splendor — the  flame-bright  form 
of  the  god  Osiris. 

In  tall  shining  mitre,  he  raises  his  ox-herd's  whip 
and  shepherd's  crook.  With  these,  to  the  joyous 
cries  of  his  Worshippers,  he  bestows  with  archaic 
gesture  a  seven-fold  sign  of  benediction. 

Once  more  then  mounting  the  altar  steps,  the 
Priests  step  forth  from  their  black  robes  and  masks 
in  their  own  garments  of  yellow  gold.  Thus,  touch- 
ing again  the  rim  of  the  disk,  they  begin  to  revolve  it 
—at  first  slowly.* 

And  now  at  its  first  motion,  Osiris  begins  to  dance. 

In  this  dance  he  expresses  the  former  beneficence 
of  his  life,  the  sufferings  of  his  death,  the  rending  of 


*The  revolving  of  the  disk,  of  course,  is  apparent  only,  not  real.  Actu- 
ally, the  disk  remains  motionless;  it  appears  to  revolve  because  of  the 
motion  of  the  Priests  around  it. 


APPENDIX  165 

his  body  into  seven  parts  and  finally  the  joy  of  his 
resurrection.* 

In  rhythm  to  the  primitive  music,  the  Priests  re- 
volve the  disk  to  the  dancing  movement  of  the  god. 

In  this  revolving  movement  his  Worshippers  below 
join  in  a  dance  on  the  ground  (expressive  of  the 
blending  of  the  seven  parts  of  his  body),  where  one 
by  one  successively  the  seven  Processions  encircle 
the  altar  and  the  dancing  Osiris.  As  they  do  so, 
they  slough  off  their  dark  garments,  weaving  thus  a 
whirling  movement  in  which  the  proportion  of  black 
ever  diminishes  while  the  golden  yellow  increases, 
until  finally — in  a  blaze  only  of  gold-yellow  radiance 
—the  Priests  raise  aloft  on  its  pedestal  the  disk,  still 
spinning,  while  the  flame-red  god,  still  dancing,  is 
borne  away  in  procession  by  his  joyous  Worshippers, 
shouting  aloud  their  shrill  cries  of  " Osiris!" 

When  all  have  disappeared  through  the  south 
gate  of  the  circle,  Prospero  on  his  throne  speaks  to 
Ariel,f  announcing  the  Second  Action  of  the  Inter- 
lude— his  art  of  the  drama  in  Greece. 

*See  "Kings  and  Gods  of  Egypt,"  Alexandra  Moret;  pp.  69-108. 
fSimilarly  before  each  of  the  Actions  of  each  Interlude,  Prospero 
makes  a  brief  explanatory  comment  to  Ariel  (and  thus  to  the  audience) . 


i66 


APPENDIX 


INTERLUDE  I 
SECOND  ACTION:  GREEK 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [175] 
Comprise 

PARTICIPANTS  [100] 


Individuals  [2] 
Sophocles 
The  Choregus* 

Friends  of  Sophocles  [20] 
Aristophanes 
Socrates 
Anaxagoras 
Alcibiades 
Euripides 
Fifteen  Others 

Chorus  [60] 

Choreutai  [In  four  bands, 
fifteen  in  each  band.] 

Musicians  [4] 
Four  Flute-players 


The  Choregus  was  the  Producer, 


Actors  [9] 
Antigone 
Ismene 
Creon 
Haemon 
Eurydice 
Teiresias 
A  Watchman 
A  Messenger 
A  Second  Messenger 

Trainers      and     Stage 
Leaders  [5] 

Chorodidaskalos  [Chorus 
Master] 

Orchestrodidaskalos 
[Dancing  Master] 

Choryphaios  [Stage  Cho- 
rus Leader] 

Two  Parastatai  [His  As- 
sistant Leaders] 

usually  a  man  of  great  wealth. 


APPENDIX  167 

FIGURANTS  [75] 

Athenian  Audience  [75] 
Pericles 
Aspasia 
Seventy-three  Others. 

THEME 

Sophocles  rehearses  the  Second  Chorus  of  his 
drama  "Antigone"  in  the  Theatre  of  Dionysus,  at 
Athens,  B.  C.  440. 

ACTION 

At  the  sounding  of  Interlude  trumpets,  the  light 
passes  to  the  great  gates  of  the  ground-circle,  from 
which  simultaneously  two  main  groups  enter. 

From  the  right  enter  Athenian  Citizens,  accom- 
panying Pericles  and  Aspasia.  These  move  forward 
to  the  north  portion  of  the  Yellow  Sands  [between 
the  centre  of  stage  B  and  the  altar]  and  there  form  the 
semicircle  of  an  antique  audience,  which  faces  the 
altar  and  the  modern  audience.  Among  these,  two 
seats  are  placed  for  Aspasia  and  Pericles. 

From  the  left  gate,  meanwhile,  has  entered  the 
Choregus  [producer  of  the  play],  in  conversation  with 
Sophocles,  followed  closely  by  a  group  of  twenty 
friends,  among  whom  are  Socrates,  Aristophanes, 
Anaxagoras,  Alcibiades,  and  Euripides.  These  move 


168  APPENDIX 

toward  the  centre.  There  Sophocles  summons  the 
Chorodidaskalos  [Chorus  Master],  and  the  Orches- 
trodidaskalos  [Dancing  Master]  to  confer  with  him 
and  the  Choregus.  Returning  part  way  toward 
the  left  gate,  the  Chorus  Master  calls  aloud 
"  Antigone!" 

Enter,  then  [left],  the  Actor  of  the  part  of  Anti- 
gone, followed  by  a  group  of  Actors  comprising  the 
impersonators  of  Ismene,  Creon,  Haemon,  Eurydice, 
Teiresias,  a  Watchman,  and  two  Messengers.  With 
these,  who  carry  their  classic  masks  in  their  hands, 
the  Choregus  confers  in  pantomime,  directs  them  to 
join  Sophocles  at  the  altar,  and  then  calls  aloud: 
"Choreutai!" 

Thereupon  enter  the  Choreutai  [Members  of  the 
Chorus],  sixty  in  number,  in  four  bands,  fifteen  in 
each  band.  Preceded  by  the  Choryphaios  [Stage 
Chorus  Leader]  and  four  Flute-players  [one  for  each 
band],  escorted  by  two  Parastatai  [Assistant  Leaders], 
the  Chorus  march  in  military  order  first  south  [each 
band  in  three  ranks  of  five  men]  till  they  are  opposite 
the  altar,  then  east  [each  band  in  five  files  of  three 
men],  till  they  halt  near  the  altar. 

Here,  after  Sophocles  has  greeted  Pericles  and 
Aspasia  nearby  in  the  impromptu  audience  [which 
his  group  of  friends  have  now  joined],  after  he  has 
chatted  with  Socrates,  and  been  chaffed  by  Aris- 


APPENDIX  169 

tophanes  and  Alcibiades,  he  turns  with  the  Choregus 
to  conduct  the  rehearsal. 

After  giving  directions  to  Antigone  and  Ismene, 
who  rehearse  in  pantomime  a  snatch  of  their  first 
scene  together,  and  after  a  few  instructions  to  Hae- 
mon,  Euripides,  and  Teiresias,  Sophocles  now  bids 
the  Choregus  direct  the  last  few  passages  between 
Creon  and  the  Messenger,  just  before  the  Second 
Chorus  in  the  play. 

They  do  so  in  pantomime;  Creon,  with  final  threat- 
ening gesture  to  the  Messenger,  makes  his  exit,  and 
the  Messenger — thanking  the  gods  for  his  escape 
from  Creon's  anger — also  departs. 

And  now,  by  direction  of  Sophocles,  the  Chorus 
Master  and  the  Master  of  Dance  make  signal  to  the 
Chorus  and  the  Flute-players;  Sophocles  steps  back 
near  Pericles  and  his  other  friends :  the  Flutists  begin 
playing  and,  under  leadership  of  the  two  masters 
of  choral  song  and  of  dance,  the  Chorus — with  vigor- 
ous, rhythmic  cadence  of  their  athletic  bodies — per- 
form an  austere  dance  about  the  altar,  raising  to  its 
measure  their  choral  song: 


i7o  APPENDIX 

CHORUS 

The  words  of  this  chorus  are  translated  here  by  the  author  from  the 
Second  Chorus  of  Sophocles'  play  "Antigone." 

Many  are  the  wonders  of  time,  but  the  mightiest  wonder 

is  man; 
Man  !  for  he  maketh  his  path  with  the  south  wind,  over 

the  surges 

Down  where  the  storm-white  billows 
Loom  to  devour  him:  Yea, 
And  Earth ,  the  immortal,  the  oldest  of  gods, 
The  untoilsome,  he  tameth  with  toiling  horses 
Dark  where  his  turning  ploughshare 
Plougheth  from  age  unto  age. 


Birds,  0  the  wild-hearted  birds,  and  the  breeds  of  the 

savage  wood 
Deep  in  his  woven  nets  he  hath  snared,  and  the  broods 

of  the  bright  sea 
Leadeth  he  likewise  captive — 
Master  of  masters,  Man  ! 
And  high  on  the  hills  he  hath  tracked  to  her  wild 
The  shaggy-maned  horse  and  yoked  her  in  harness; 
Tireless,  too,  hath  his  spirit 
Tamed  the  wild  mountain  bull. 


APPENDIX  171 

Words,  arid  the  wind  of  great  thought,  and  the  mood  that 

mouldcth  a  state, 
These  hath  he  mastered,  and  knowcth  to  parry  the  white 

frost  arrow's 

Pitiless  barb,  and  the  pouring  . 
Arrows  of  purple  rain. 

All,  all  hath  he  mastered,  and  all  that  may  come 
He  meeteth  with  cunning  and  power;  but  only 
Death  hath  he  failed  to  master: 
Death  is  the  master  of  man. 


As  they  conclude,  a  runner  comes  hastening  from 
the  right  gate,  calling  "  Pericles! " 

Pericles  rises,  receives  in  pantomime  the  message 
of  the  runner,  and  indicates  to  Sophocles  that  he  must 
return  to  the  city. 

He  and  Aspasia  and  their  followers  depart  [right 
gate].  With  a  gesture,  then,  to  the  Choregus,  So- 
phocles dismisses  the  rehearsal;  he  and  his  friends 
follow  the  others;  the  Chorus  forms  again  in  files  and 
ranks,  moving  off  with  the  playing  Flute-players  to 
the  right  Interlude  gate,  where  all  disappear. 


172  APPENDIX 

INTERLUDE  I 
THIRD  ACTION:  ROMAN 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [150] 
Comprise 

PARTICIPANTS  AND  SPECIALS 

Individuals  [2] 

Caligula,  Emperor  of  Rome 
Naevoleia,  a  female  Mime 

Roman  Patricians  [21] 
Roman  Populace  [80] 

Musicians  [10] 
Two  Players  of  Flutes 

"  Citherns 

"  Lyres 

"  Scabillae  [foot  cymbals] 

"  Shields  and  Cymbals 

Pantomime  Actors  [7] 
Pantimimus,  announcing  the  Pantomime,  "  Hercules 

and  the  Sphinx." 
Two  Boy  Pantomimi 
Hercules,  the  demigod 
Silenus,  the  satyr 
Servus,  a  slave 


APPENDIX  173 

Omphalc,   a   Nymph    [afterward   disguised   as   the 
Sphinx] 

Mimes  and  Dancers  [32] 
1 6  Boy-Mimes,  as  Fauns 
1 6  Girl-Mimes,  as  Nymphs 

THEME 

The  Emperor  Caligula  witnesses  a  farcical  comedy 
in  pantomime,  enacted  in  a  street  of  Rome,  A.  D.  40. 

ACTION 

As  the  last  of  the  Greeks  disappear  right,  the  Inter- 
lude trumpets  sound  at  the  left  gate.  There  immedi- 
ately resounds  a  great  shout  and  clamor  of  voices, 
crying  aloud:  " Caligula!  Salve,  Imperator!"  The 
gate  is  thrown  open,  and  the  Roman  populace  throng 
in,  accompanying — in  varied  groups  of  squalor  and 
poverty — the  gorgeous  Patricians  that  escort  the 
Emperor  Caligula,  borne  in  a  chariot,  behind  which 
follow  a  troupe  of  Roman  Pantomime  Actors 
and  Mimes  who  carry  a  light  platform  with  cur- 
tain, which  they  set  up  [centre,  north],  facing  the 
altar. 

The  curtain  is  painted  to  represent  the  street  ex- 
terior of  a  house,  in  the  Pompeian-Roman  style.  In 
the  centre,  set  in  a  lintel  frame,  is  depicted  a  wide 


174  APPENDIX 

squat  door,  the  stage  platform  forming  its  sill.  Above 
the  door  is  a  window  casement.  Both  door  and 
window  are  devised  to  open  and  close  practically. 
The  top  of  the  curtain  is  designed  as  an  over-jutting 
tiled  roof. 

With  the  Pantomimists  come  a  group  of  Musicians, 
consisting  of  players  on  flutes,  shields  and  cymbals, 
citherns  and  lyres,  and  two  who  wear  fastened  to 
their  ankles  pairs  of  scabilla,  a  kind  of  cymbal  for 
the  feet. 

The  Populace  and  Patricians  meantime  cross  to 
right  of  centre  [further  southwest]. 

In  the  chariot  beside  Caligula  rides  Naevoleia,  a 
female  Mime,  whom  Caligula — with  amorous  play- 
fulness— kisses  and  crowns  with  gold  laurel  as  she 
alights.  Alighting  with  her,  he  himself  helps  to  at- 
tire her  in  the  garments  worn  in  her  part  of  the 
nymph  Omphale  in  the  stage  pantomime  to  follow. 
Doing  so,  he  thrusts  aside — with  a  glance  and  gesture 
of  jealous  anger — the  Chief  Actor,  who  [in  the  part 
of  Hercules]  approaches  to  assist. 

Caligula  then  escorts  her  to  the  improvised 
stage  where  she  teasingly  parts  with  him  to  play 
her  role  in  the  Comedy.  Caligula  returns  to  his 
chariot. 

And  now  the  Comedy  is  announced  by  the  appear- 
ance [through  the  curtain  door]  of  Pantomimus,  a 


APPENDIX  175 

particolored  figure,  garbed  antiquely  as  a  harlequin, 
Wreathed  and  masked.* 

Behind  Pantomimus,  enter  [on  either  side  of  him] 
two  little  Pantomimi,  half  his  height,  exactly  resem- 
bling him  in  every  particular.  These,  as  with  skip- 
ping step  and  motion  Pantomimus  makes  his  intro- 
duction, imitate  his  every  movement  of  wand  and 
gesture. 

By  his  action,  which  is  accompanied  by  flute, 
cymbal,  and  scabilla  players,  Pantomimus  describes 
very  briefly  the  plot  of  the  comedy  which  is  to  follow, 
viz: 

THE  SPHINX  AND  HERCULESf 

THEME 

Hercules,  lured  by  the  nymph  Omphale  to  live 
with  her  a  woman's  way  of  life,  becomes  terribly 
bored,  rebels,  and  vows  to  a  statue  of  the  Sphinx  to 
resume  his  manly  exploits.  By  the  help  of  the 
satyr  Silenus,  however,  who  makes  Hercules  drunk, 
Omphale — in  guise  of  the  Sphinx — wins  Hercules 
back  and  marries  him. 

*In  one  hand  Pantomimus  carries  a  wand  resembling  a  caduceus, 
but  differing  from  that  of  Mercury  in  that  the  heads  of  the  twining 
snakes  are  carved  as  little  masks  of  comedy,  and  the  tip  of  the  wand,  to 
which  the  flying  wings  are  affixed,  is  the  shining  disk  of  a  mirror,  into 
which  at  times  Pantomimus  peers  quaintly  at  his  reflection. 

•jThe  Pantomime  is  adapted  from  a  Roman  Interlude  by  the  author 
in  his  drama  "Sappho  and  Phaon." 


176  APPENDIX 

ACTION 

As  Pantomimus  concludes  this  dumb-show  exposi- 
tion, he  signs  to  his  two  Assistants,  who  run  out  and 
bring  back  two  stage  properties,  which  they  place 
on  either  side:  the  right-hand  one  represents  a  squat 
pillar,  on  the  top  of  which  is  the  sitting  figure  of  a 
bronze  Sphinx;  the  left-hand — a  set-piece  of  foliage 
and  shrubbery. 

All  three  then  make  their  exit. 

Enter,  then,  on  the  ground  plane,  from  behind  the 
stage  platform,  Servus,  a  house-slave,  masked  as 
such.  He  places  on  the  platform  a  low  seat  and, 
beside  it,  a  heap  of  wool  and  spinning  materials. 
Then  he  prostrates  himself  toward  the  left  ground 
entrance,  as  enter  there — dancing  to  cymbal  music— 
a  group  of  young  girl-mimes  without  masks],  dressed 
as  Nymphs  and  carrying  distaffs. 

In  the  midst  of  these — preceded  by  most  of  them— 
enter  Hercules,  in  grotesque  mask,  which  depicts  a 
comic-dejected  expression.  He  is  wadded  after  the 
manner  of  the  comic  histrionic  vase-figures  of  an- 
tiquity, and  walks  downcast.  Instead  of  his  legen- 
dary lion's  skin,  there  hangs  from  his  shoulder  the 
wooly  pelt  of  a  sheep;  in  place  of  his  knotted  club, 
his  hand  holds  a  huge  distaff;  and  for  the  rest  he  is 
dressed  like  a  Greek  woman. 

He  is  accompanied  by  Omphale,  masked  as  a  beau- 


APPENDIX  177 

liiul  and  amorous  nymph.  Over  her  shoulders  she 
wears  his  lion's  skin;  in  one  hand  she  holds  his  massive 
club;  with  the  other  she  caresses  him. 

With  coquetting  wiles,  the  Nymphs  in  their  danc- 
ing draw  the  two  toward  the  centre,  where  they  sit 
beside  the  wool — Hercules,  with  heavy  sighs,  begin- 
ning to  spin,  while  Omphale,  posing  in  the  lion's 
skin,  approves  his  labor.  Here  the  Nymphs,  re- 
clined about  them  on  the  platform  and  the  ground, 
execute  a  rhythmic  dance  with  their  arms  and  dis- 
taffs, singing  to  their  movement: 

Angustam  amice  pauperiem  pati 
robustus  acri  militia  puer 
condiscat  et  Parthos  feroces 

vexet  eques  metuendus  hasta 
vitamque  sub  divo  et  trepides  agat 
in  rebus,     ilium  ex  moenibus  hosticis 
matrona  bellanti  tyranni 

prospiciens  et  adulta  virgo 
suspiret,  eheu,  ne  rudis  agminum 
sponsus  lacessat  regius  asperum 
tactu  leonem,  quern  cruenta 
per  medias  rapit  ira  caedes. 

At  the  culmination  of  this,  Hercules,  who  has  been 
repelling  the  attentions  of  Omphale,  at  first  with 


178  APPENDIX 

feeble  ennui,  but  afterward  with  increasing  determi; 
nation,  now  rises  in  grandiose  disgust,  and — snatching 
from  her  his  lion's  skin  and  club — repudiates  her  and 
the  Nymphs. 

Flinging  down  the  sheep's  pelt  and  setting  his  foot 
upon  it,  he  breaks  his  distaff  in  pieces  and,  threaten- 
ing Omphale,  drives  the  Nymphs  off  the  scene,  left. 
[During  this  excitement,  Servus — who  has  been 
standing  aside — seizes  the  heap  of  wool,  and  exit 
with  it  in  flight.]  Turning  then  to  the  image  of  the 
Sphinx,  Hercules  expresses  in  dumb-show  how,  lured 
by  the  riddle  of  the  Sphinx,  he  aspires  to  fight  and 
conquer  the  world  for  her  sake.  Laying  his  club  and 
lion's  skin  devoutly  at  the  foot  of  the  column,  he 
kneels,  embraces  it,  and  raises  then  his  arms  in  sup- 
plication to  the  Sphinx. 

Thus  kneeling,  he  is  watched  furtively  at  a  dis- 
tance by  Omphale,  who,  at  his  outburst,  has  run  to 
the  edge  of  the  foliage,  right.  Hercules,  rising,  puts 
on  his  lion's  skin,  and  brandishing  his  club  heroically 
for  the  benefit  of  the  immovable  Sphinx,  goes  off,  left. 

Immediately  Omphale  seizes  from  amid  the  foliage 
a  sylvan  pipe,  and  blows  on  it  a  brief,  appealing 
ditty.  At  this,  from  behind  the  foliage,  run  out 
boy-mimes,  in  the  guise  of  Fauns;  she  gesticulates  to 
them  beseechingly.  They  run  back  and  presently 
return,  advancing  to  pipe-music,  accompanying  and 


APPENDIX  179 

leading  a  goat,  astride  of  which  sits  Silenus,  an  old 
grotesque  Satyr,  in  mask. 

Omphale  greets  him  joyfully  and  helps  him  down 
from  the  goat.  She  then  describes  to  him  in  panto- 
mime the  late  outburst  of  Hercules — his  breaking 
the  spindle,  his  enamoration  for  the  Sphinx,  etc.,  and 
prays  his  aid  and  advice. 

Silenus  pauses  an  instant  in  philosophical  absorp- 
tion, then  gives  a  leap  and  skip.  Omphale,  seeing 
that  he  has  hit  on  some  plan,  expresses  her  pleasure 
and  inquires  what  his  plan  may  be.  Silenus  bids  her 
call  a  slave.  Omphale  claps  her  hands  toward  the 
left  entrance.  Servus  enters.  Silenus  signs  to  him. 
Servus  goes  back  and  returns  immediately,  rolling 
in  a  wine-cask,  from  which  he  fills  an  antique  beaker. 
From  this  Silenus  sips  and  approves.  He  then  points 
to  the  Sphinx  and  asks  if  be  that  of  which  Hercules 
is  enamored.  Omphale  assents.  Silenus  then  di- 
rects Servus  to  lift  the  Sphinx  down  from  the  pillar. 
Servus  does  so,  revealing  its  hollow  interior  as  he 
carries  it.  Silenus,  drawing  Omphale's  attention  to 
this  fact  of  its  hollowness,  opens  the  door  in  the  cur- 
tain, and  commands  Servus  to  bear  the  Sphinx 
within.  Servus  does  so.  Silenus,  then,  pointing  to 
the  window  above  the  door,  whispers  in  the  ear  of 
Omphale,  who,  delighted,  enters  the  door  after  Ser- 
vus. Silenus  closes  the  door  as  Hercules  reenters,  left. 


i8o  APPENDIX 

The  hero  has  discarded  his  woman's  garb,  and 
comes  forward  now  dressed  as  a  man,  with  lion's  skin 
and  club — his  mask  changed  to  one  of  an  exultant 
and  martial  expression. 

Silenus  greets  him  with  obsequious  and  cunning 
servility  and  offers  him  wine.  Hercules,  with  good- 
natured  hauteur,  condescends  to  accept  the  cup 
which  he  offers.  While  he  is  drinking,  the  window 
above  in  the  curtain  opens,  and  Omphale  thrusts 
her  head  out,  revealing  [within]  beside  her  own,  the 
Sphinx's  head.  Silenus  secretively  motions  her  to 
be  cautious.  Seeing  his  gesture,  Hercules  looks  up, 
but  not  swiftly  enough  to  detect  Omphale,  who  with- 
draws. Again  looking  forth,  as  he  turns  to  drink 
again,  Omphale  mocks  Hercules  below,  dropping 
wisps  of  wool  on  his  head,  the  source  of  wrhich,  how- 
ever, Hercules  fails  to  detect.  Silenus  explains  that 
the  wool  is  really  feathers,  which  fell  from  a  bird 
flying  overhead. 

Hercules  now,  under  the  sly  persuasions  of  the  old 
Satyr,  grows  more  pleased  with  the  wine,  and  becomes 
drunk — as  he  becomes  so,  expressing  to  Silenus, 
with  increasing  familiarity  and  descriptive  force,  all 
the  mighty  exploits  he  intends  to  accomplish  in  the 
service  of  the  incomparable  Sphinx,  whose  living 
prototype  he  declares  he  will  immediately  set  forth 
in  search  of. 


APPENDIX  181 

Starting  now,  humorously  drunk,  to  depart  [right] 
he  is  detained  by  Silenus,  who  points  upward  to  the 
window,  where  now  the  blank,  immovable  face  of  the 
Sphinx  looks  forth  at  the  sky.  Hercules,  bewildered, 
asks  Silenus  if  it  is  really  the  Sphinx  herself  and  alive? 
Silenus  assents  and  proves  his  assertion  by  pointing 
to  the  deserted  pedestal.  At  this,  Hercules  addresses 
the  Sphinx,  with  impassioned  gestures.  The  Sphinx 
remains  immovable.  Hercules  becomes  discour- 
aged. Silenus  then  puts  a  pipe  in  his  hand,  and  tells 
him  to  play  it.  He  does  so,  and  is  rewarded  by  a 
slow,  preternatural  look  from  the  Sphinx.  At  this 
he  plays  more  vociferously  and,  surrounded  by  the 
little  piping  Fauns,  performs  a  serenade  beneath  the 
casement,  while  Silenus,  looking  on  from  a  distance, 
rubs  his  hands  with  sly  delight. 

The  serenade  ends  by  Hercules,  on  his  knees,  im- 
ploring the  Sphinx  to  come  down.  The  Sphinx  at 
length  consents  and  the  casement  closes.  Silenus 
calls  his  Fauns  away  to  the  edge  of  the  foliage,  and 
Hercules  goes  to  the  door. 

For  a  moment  nothing  happens  and  Hercules 
knocks  on  the  steps  impatiently  with  his  club.  Then 
the  door  opens  and  enter  the  Sphinx — dressed  below 
in  the  Greek  garments  of  Omphale,  but  from  the 
waist  upward  consisting  of  the  sitting  image  of  the 
Sphinx,  beneath  whose  closed  wings  the  arms  of 


i82  APPENDIX 

Omphale  are  thrust  through  and  have  place  for 
motion. 

The  Sphinx,  its  tail  swinging  behind,  descends  the 
steps,  reticent  and  impassive,  attended  by  Hercules, 
drunk  and  enamored. 

Then  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  to  the  accompani- 
ment from  the  foliage  of  the  piping  Fauns,  who  play 
softly  a  variation  of  the  serenade  theme,  Hercules 
woos  the  Sphinx,  who,  at  the  proper  moment,  suc- 
cumbs to  his  entreaties.  After  embracing  him 
amorously,  she  extends  her  hand  to  him.  He  seizes 
it  to  kiss;  she  withdraws  it  and  signifies  that  he  must 
put  a  ring  on  the  ring-finger.  Hercules  hunts  about 
him  in  vain  for  the  ring.  Calling  then  to  Silenus  and 
the  Fauns,  he  explains  to  them  the  situation. 

Silenus,  producing  a  ring,  hands  it  to  Hercules, 
who  puts  it  on  the  finger  of  the  Sphinx. 

Instantly  a  clasn  of  cymbals  is  heard  from  the 
left,  and  a  clapping  of  palms  from  the  right,  and  re- 
enter  the  dancing  Nymphs,  who  encircle  the  scene 
just  as  Servus  removes  from  the  bride  the  great  mask 
of  the  Sphinx,  thereby  revealing  her  to  the  astounded 
Hercules — as  Omphale,  who  embraces  him,  exulting 
in  her  ring. 

Just  as  she  is  embracing  and  kissing  him,  the 
scene  is  interrupted  by  a  cry  of  jealous  rage  from 


APPENDIX  183 

Caligula  who  springs  from  his  chariot,  calling: 
" Hercules!"  At  his  gesture  slaves  run  before  him, 
seize  Hercules,  and  hale  him  toward  Caligula,  who 
bids  them  whip  him.  Frightened,  for  an  instant, 
Omphale  [the  Mime  Naevoleia]  then  hastens  as  if 
to  intercede,  but,  seeing  Caligula's  expression,  taunts 
him  with  toying  bravado,  and  finally  as  he  kisses  her 
makes  him  burst  with  her  into  laughter,  as  Hercules 
is  dragged  off  through  the  hooting  crowd,  flogged  by 
Caligula's  slaves.  [During  the  latter  part  of  this 
Roman  Action,  LUST  has  appeared  at  the  mouth  of 
Caliban's  cell  and  looked  on.  His  voice  now  joins 
the  loud  laughter  of  Caligula.] 

Dispersing  in  confusion,  the  Pantomime  Actors 
remove  their  curtain  and  platform  [right]  into  the 
darkness,  which  now  envelops  also  Caligula  and  the 
Roman  populace. 

END  OF   INTERLUDE  I 


INTERLUDE  II 
FIRST  ACTION:  GERMANIC 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [150] 
Comprise 

PARTICIPANTS  [150] 
Individuals  [2] 

Forerunner  [Einschreier]      Out-crier  [Ausschreier] 

Pantomime  Actors  [6]  Musicians  [10] 

Doctor  Faustus  Ten  Pipers 

An  Apprentice  SyMic 

Lucifer  Doctors  [8] 

Two  Devils  priestg  U] 

Helena  Artists  [9] 

Melancholia  [i] 
Citizens  of  Nuremberg  [i  loj 

Men  and  Women  [70] 
Apprentices  [40] 

THEME 

On  a  street  of  Nuremberg,  in  their  Shrovetide  fes- 
tival, a  band  of  Apprentices  enact,  on  a  wheeled  stage, 

184 


APPENDIX  185 

a  pantomime  scene  from  an  early  version  of  "  Doctor 
Faustus."     Time:  Sixteenth  century. 

ACTION 

At  Prospero's  final  words  in  Act  I,  the  playing  of 
pipes  is  heard  at  the  right  Interlude  Gates,  where 
enter  a  band  of  Apprentices,  accompanying  a  wheeled 
street-stage,  drawn  by  donkeys  with  bells  and  set 
with  a  three-fold  scene  of  Earth,  Heaven,  and  Hell. 
Some  of  the  Apprentices  are  masked,  some  disguised 
as  fools.  They  enter,  singing  an  old  German  folk 
song,  and  march  to  the  centre  of  the  ground-circle 
(between  the  altar  and  the  south  entrance),  where  the 
stage  pauses.  Before  them  has  hastened  a  forerun- 
ner (Einschreier),  blowing  a  horn  and  shouting: 
"Schauspieler!  Doctor  Faustus!" 

Along  with  them,  Pipers  accompany  their  singing. 
Behind  them  follow  folk  of  Nuremberg,  gaping  peas- 
ants and  merry-making  young  people. 

From  the  left  gate,  meanwhile  [in  obscurer  light], 
enters  a  graver  group,  clad  symbolically  as  Doctors 
of  Learning,  Priests,  and  Artists,  accompanying 
another  wheeled  vehicle,  the  stage  of  which  is  wholly 
curtained  from  view. 

These  stop  at  some  distance  from  the  former  group, 
and  look  on  from  a  place  of  shadow. 

And  now,  where  the  first  stage  has  paused  in  a 


186  APPENDIX 

place  of  brighter  glow,  the  Actors  appear  and  begin 
their  pantomime. 

Doctor  Faustus  appears  on  the  Middle  Stage, 
Earth.  There,  amid  his  astronomical  instruments, 
he  greets  the  gaping  crowd  and  points  a  telescope 
toward  the  place  of  Heaven.  Suddenly  a  comet 
flashes  above  the  stage.  An  Apprentice  inquires 
the  reason.  Doctor  Faustus  explains  it  by  revealing 
its  two  fathers — the  Sun  and  the  Moon,  which  now 
appear  shining  simultaneously  in  Heaven. 

At  this  sorcery,  Lucifer  comes  from  Hell,  signifies 
to  Faustus  that  his  hour  has  come,  and  that  he  must 
follow  him.  Faustus  begs  a  last  wish,  which  Lucifer 
reluctantly  grants.  He  begs  to  see  once  more  his 
beloved  Helena  of  Troy. 

Then  in  Heaven  appears  Helena,  who  comes  to 
Faustus  on  Earth  and  embraces  him.  But  now 
Lucifer — summoning .  two  tailed  devils  with  pitch- 
forks— bids  them  drag  Faustus  from  the  arms  of 
Helena,  who  flees  back  to  Heaven,  disappearing 
there,  as  Faustus  is  prodded  and  haled  to  the  up- 
bursting  flames  of  Hell,  amid  the  exultant  laughter  of 
Lucifer. 

At  ibis  finale,  the  stage  and  its  audience  moves  off 
through  the  left  gate,  while  the  graver  Symbolic 
Group — crossing  right  in  deep  shadow — pauses  at 
the  centre. 


APPENDIX  187 

There,  for  a  moment,  the  curtains  of  their  pageant 
stage  are  drawn,  revealing — in  mystic  light — a  dim- 
glowing  tableau  of  Albrecht  Durer's  Melancholia. 

As  this  pales  into  darkness,  the  Group  with  its 
curtained  stage  moves  vaguely  off,  and  vanishes 
through  the  right  gate  of  the  Interlude. 


INTERLUDE  II 
SECOND  ACTION:  FRENCH 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [150] 
Comprise 

PARTICIPANTS  [50] 
FIGURANTS  [100] 

Individuals  [4] 

Francis  I,  of  France  Heralds  [10:  Figurants] 

Henry  VIII,  of  England  French  [5] 
French  Tourney-rider  English  [5] 
English  Tourney-rider 

Nobles  and  Courtiers  [88 :  Servants  and  Followers 

Figurants]  [48 :    Participants] 

French  [44]  French  [24] 

English  [44]  English  [24] 


i88  APPENDIX 

THEME* 

To  celebrate  Peace  between  their  nations,  after 
long  war,  Francis  I  of  France  and  Henry  VIII  of 
England  meet  on  the  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold  [A. 
D.  1520],  and  hold  a  tournament. 

ACTION 

After  the  mystic  tableau  of  the  Melancholia  has 
departed,  a  peal  of  trumpets  from  the  Interlude 
gates  [right  and  left]  ushers  in  a  pageant  of  contrasted 
splendor. 

In  the  left  gateway  appear  the  Heralds  of  the 
French,  in  the  right,  of  the  English. 

Then  [to  music  of  the  unseen  orchestra,  above, 
playing  the  instrumental  music  only  of  the  Chorus 
"  Glory  and  Serenity,"  which  later  is  sung  by  voices 
in  Act  II],  enter,  on  horseback,  the  two  Kings,  Francis 
I  and  Henry  VIII,  accompanied  by  their  Nobles  and 
Servants. 

All  are  clad  in  golds  and  yellows. 

On  the  banners  of  the  English  is  depicted  St. 
George  and  the  Dragon;  on  the  banners  of  the 
French — the  lilies  of  France. 


*This  Theme  inheres  in  an  excerpt  from  Shakespeare's  "King  Henry 
VIII,"  Act  I,  Scene  I,  quoted  by  Ariel  as  Prologue  to  the  Sixth  Inner 
Scene  of  the  Masque,  for  which  the  actual  dialogue  of  no  Shakespeare 
Scene  dealing  with  France  appears  so  appropriate  for  the  Masque's  uses 
as  a  pantomime  based  on  this  excerpt  from  Henry  VIII. 


APPENDIX  189 

The  servants  set  up  at  centre  [just  south  of  Cali- 
ban's cell]  a  gorgeous  canopy  with  two  thrones,  in 
which  the  two  Kings,  dismounting,  take  their  seats, 
the  French  followers  grouped  on  the  left,  the  English 
on  the  right. 

Then  to  the  royal  presence,  a  Herald  summons,  by 
trumpet  call,  two  Tourney-riders  [French  and  Eng- 
lish], who  come  riding  in  armor,  from  the  south  gate, 
on  horses  caparisoned  with  their  national  colors  and 
symbols. 

Taking  their  places,  at  signal  again  of  the  Herald, 
to  shouts  of  the  spectators,  they  ride  at  each  other 
with  set  lances,  in  a  mock  battle— which  comprises 
two  actions. 

In  the  first  action,  the  French  rider  is  unhorsed, 
in  the  second,  the  English  rider. 

During  both  actions,  the  English  cry  "St.  George 
for  England!"  the  French  "Vive  la  France!" 

Between  the  two  actions,  the  French  King  rises 
and  toasts  the  English  King,  to  acclamations  of  the 
French. 

After  the  second  action,  King  Henry  compliments 
King  Francis,  to  acclamations  of  the  English. 

Then,  as  the  two  Kings  clasp  hands,  both  sides 
shout  aloud:  "God  save  the  King!"  and  "Vive  le 
Roi!"  raising  aloft  their  banners  and  emblems. 

At  the  climax  of  this  demonstration,  the  invisible 


i9o  APPENDIX 

orchestra  resumes  the  march  of  "  Glory  and  Serenity," 
to  which  the  Kings,  remounting  their  horses,  ride 
off  side  by  side,  followed  by  their  English  and  French 
suites,  now  commingled,  disappearing  through  the 
south  gateway. 

INTERLUDE  II 
THIRD  ACTION:  SPANISH-ITALIAN 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [150] 
Comprise 

PARTICIPANTS  [150] 
[No  FIGURANTS] 

Individuals  [2]  Improvised   Comedy 

The  Doge  of  Venice  Actors  [6] 

The  Spanish  Ambassador       II  Capitano 

Arlecchino 

Venetian  Nobles  [24]  n  Commandatore 

Spanish  Courtiers  [24]       Pantalone 

Brighella 
Venetian  Populace  [94]     Columbina 

THEME 

On  the  plaza  of  St.  Marks  in  Venice  [A.  D.,  about 
1630],  a  troop  of  Improvised  Comedy  Actors  [of  the 
Commedia  delV  Arte]  enact  before  the  Doge  and  the 


APPENDIX  191 

Spanish  Ambassador,  amid  the  populace,  during  a 
festa,  a  pantomime  scene  depicting  an  adventure  of 
Don  Giovanni. 

ACTION 

When  the  last  of  the  gold-clad  French  and  English 
have  departed  through  the  South  Gate,  a  chiming 
of  church-bells  from  the  gates  of  the  north  [right  and 
left]  gives  signal  for  the  entrance  there  of  an  Italian 
Festa. 

From  the  right,  enters  the  Doge  with  his  Venetian 
nobles,  accompanied  by  the  Italian  populace;  from 
the  left,  the  Spanish  Ambassador  and  his  Suite,  ac- 
companied by  a  troop  of  Improvised  Comedy  Actors, 
who  set  up  a  platform  on  wooden  horses  before  the 
Doge  and  the  Ambassador  where  they  meet  and 
greet  each  other,  at  right  of  centre  [north]. 

Here  six  Actors  mount  the  platform,  at  the  back 
of  which  is  a  curtain,  divided  in  the  middle. 

These  are  II  Capitano  [the  Captain],  Arlecchino 
[Harlequin],  II  Commandatore  [the  Commander], 
Pantalone  [Pantaloon],  Brighella,  and  Columbina 
[Columbine].  They  all  pass  behind  the  curtain, 
through  the  folds  in  the  middle. 

After  a  moment's  prelude  of  stringed  instruments, 
then,  the  Pantomime  begins. 

First,  in  semi-darkness,  HARLEQUIN  appears,  carry- 


iQ2  APPENDIX 

ing  a  lighted  lantern  on  the  end  of  a  sword.  At 
a  noise  of  laughter  from  behind  the  curtain  he  stops 
and  trembles.  The  laughter  sounds  again,  deep  and 
harsh;  Harlequin  trembles  so  violently  that  the  lan- 
tern falls  and  goes  out. 

In  the  dimness,  enter  II  Capitano  in  the  part  of 
DON  GIOVANNI,  muffled  in  an  immense  cloak. 
Harlequin  falls  on  his  back,  feigning  death,  but  keep- 
ing his  sword  pointing  upward.  Stumbling  against 
him,  Don  Giovanni  draws  his  sword  and  strikes  the 
sword  of  Harlequin,  who  leaps  up.  They  begin  a 
duel,  in  the  midst  of  which  they  suddenly  recognize 
each  other  as  friends  and  embrace. 

Enter  now  [bringing  lanterns,  which  illumine  the 
stage  more  brightly]  PANTALOON  and  BRIGHELLA. 
Both  are  wrapped  in  cloaks. 

Greeting  Don  Giovanni,  who  returns  the  greeting, 
Pantaloon  explains  that  he  has  a  rendezvous  with  a 
beautiful  young  lady  [the  head  of  Columbine  having 
peered  momentarily  through  the  curtain];  that  he 
will  make  a  certain  sign  to  call  her;  that  he  must  be 
cautious,  as  she  has  a  fierce  and  suspicious  father. 
Don  Giovanni  becomes  very  interested,  and  confides 
that  he,  too,  must  attend  a  rendezvous,  for  which  he 
needs  a  disguise.  For  this,  he  persuades  Pantaloon 
to  change  cloaks  with  him.  They  do  so,  their  serv- 
ants also  exchanging  cloaks. 


APPENDIX  193 

Exeunt  then  Pantaloon  and  Brighella. 

Don  Giovanni  now,  approaching  the  curtain,  makes 
the  aforesaid  sign  described  by  Pantaloon.  At  this, 
enter  COLUMBINE,  who  mistakes  him  for  Panta- 
loon and  approaches  him  lovingly.  He  allows  her  to 
do  so,  but  soon — opening  his  cloak — he  terrifies  her 
by  his  wrong  identity.  However,  he  is  handsomer 
than  Pantaloon,  and  quickly  wins  her  for  himself. 
In  this  Harlequin  delightedly  assists  him. 

Finally,  just  as  Columbine  succumbs  and  goes 
to  his  arms,  her  father,  THE  COMMANDER,  enters. 
Seeing  her  in  Don  Giovanni's  arms,  he  bursts  into 
terrible  anger,  draws  his  sword,  and  attacks  the  lover. 
Harlequin  tries  to  prevent  him  but  fails. 

Putting  the  frightened  Columbine  behind  him, 
Don  Giovanni  returns  the  attack  with  his  sword, 
fights  and  suddenly  kills  the  Commander,  who  falls 
motionless. 

In  terror,  Columbine  and  Harlequin  scream  and 
run  out  [through  the  curtain],  leaving  Don  Giovanni 
standing  with  one  foot  and  his  sword-point  prodding 
the  dead  body. 

To  screams  and  shudderings  also  from  the  horrified 
onlookers  of  the  populace,  darkness  falls  on  the 
stage. 

Then,  as  suddenly — in  a  burst  of  light — the  Ac- 
tors come  trooping  forth  all  together  in  laughter, 


i94  APPENDIX 

make  faces  and  comic  gestures  at  the  people,  remove 
their  curtain  and  stage,  and  run  off  [right],  to  merry 
twanging  of  instruments,  followed  by  the  Doge, 
Ambassador,  and  populace. 

END   OF  INTERLUDE  II 


INTERLUDE  III 

In  the  New  York  production  in  May,  1916,  the  performance  of  this 
Interlude  will  be  arranged  by  members  of  the  New  York  City  Centre  of 
the  U.  S.  A.  Branch  of  the  English  Folk  Dance  Society,  under  the  per- 
sonal direction  of  Mr.  Cecil  J.  Sharp,  who  has  devised  the  Action  of  this 
Interlude,  and  has  worded  the  description  of  it — in  conference  with  the 
author — as  here  printed. 

ELIZABETHAN  ENGLAND 

Action  Continuous,  in  8  Successive  Episodes 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [about  400] 
Comprise 

PARTICIPANTS  AND  FIGURANTS 


Individuals 
Sun 
Frost 

May  Queen 
Hobby  Horse  Dancer 
Club-Man 
Fool 
Witch 
King 
Queen 
Noah 
Noah's  Wife 


Tides-well  Procession:  [100] 
May  Tree  Procession:  [100] 
Morris  Dance  Group:  [25] 

Dancers:  16 

Attendants:  g 

Hobby  Horse  Group:  [25] 

Dancers:  15 

Attendants:  10 

Tumblers  and  Jugglers:  [25] 
Rustic  Play- Actors:  [25] 
Winter  Group:  [50] 
Spring  Group:  [50] 
195 


196  APPENDIX 

INTERLUDE  III 

THEME 

Celebration  of  an  Elizabethan  May  Day  Festival 
on  the  outskirts  of  an  English  town. 

ACTION 

i :  CONTEST  BETWEEN  SPRING 
AND  WINTER 

A  group  of  25  young  men,  representing  Winter, 
all  dressed  in  close-fitting  black  garments,  enter 
from  Caliban's  cell.  They  carry  a  ball  and,  com- 
manded by  one  of  their  number — Frost — advance 
slowly  and  dejectedly  and  lie  down  near  the  centre 
of  the  ground  guarding  the  ball.  A  group  of  25 
young  men,  dressed  in  tight-fitting  green  garments, 
representing  Spring,  enter  through  the  right  Inter- 
lude Gate.  Headed  by  one  of  their  number — Sun— 
they  come  forward  running  and  shouting.  Winter* 
rise  and  stand  in  defence  of  the  ball.  A  scuffle 
ensues  and  the  ball  is  released  from  the  scrimmage. 
It  is  then  kicked  about  by  both  sides,  Spring  trying 
to  force  it  toward  the  water  ,f  Winter  repelling  it 
therefrom.  Sun  and  Frost  encourage  their  respec- 

*The  words  Winter  and  Spring  refer  to  the  respective  Groups. 
fThe  water  is  represented  by  the  blue  ground,  beyond  the  verge  of 
the  Yellow  Sands. 


APPENDIX  197 

tive  supporters  but  do  not  touch  the  ball.  Groups  of 
villagers  come  in,  by  twos  and  threes  [20  to  25  in 
number],  and  join  the  ranks  of  Spring,  who  are  thus 
enabled  to  overpower  Winter.  Eventually,  one  of 
the  Spring  group  secures  the  ball,  holds  it  aloft  and, 
surrounded  by  his  followers,  runs  toward  the  water. 
Winter  follow,  fatigued  and  languid.  As  the  Spring 
man  approaches  the  water,  maidens,  10  or  12  in 
number,  enter  from  various  quarters  and  swell  the 
group.  The  ball  is  then  raised  and  ceremonially 
thrown  into  the  water;  whereupon,  the  girls  join 
Spring  in  hunting  Winter  back  again  into  their  cave. 

2:  PROCESSIONAL  DANCE  THROUGH 
VILLAGE 

While  Winter  is  being  driven  off  the  arena,  a  pro- 
cession of  Villagers,  comprising  50  couples  [i.  e.,  part- 
ners], enter  through  South  Interlude  Gate  and  dance 
the  Tideswell  Processional  Morris.  The  dancers 
include  men,  women,  and  children  of  all  classes  and 
are  dressed  in  their  holiday  clothes,  plentifully  be- 
decked with  flowers  and  ribbons.  Each  carries  two 
handkerchiefs,  one  in  each  hand,  or,  if  preferred, 
boughs  of  May  blossom.  They  dance  round  the 
arena  in  a  spiral  until  the  front  couple  reach  the  cen- 
tre; whereupon,  all  raise  their  arms  and  shout  on  the 
last  chord  of  the  tune.  Spring  and  all  the  actors 


igS  AP  PEN  DI X 

already  on  the  ground  join  in  the  procession  at  the 
rear,  or  wherever  they  can  squeeze  in. 

3:  REVELS  AND  AMUSEMENTS 

Upon  the  completion  of  the  dance,  the  dancers 
disperse  noisily  all  over  the  ground.  The  children 
play  Singing  Games,  e.  g.,  U0ats  and  Beans,"  "Here 
We  Come  Gathering  Nuts  (i.  e.  Knots)  in  May," 
"  Old  Sir  Roger,"  etc.,  in  different  parts  of  the  ground 
—not  too  close  together.  Booths  and  stalls  are 
brought  in,  a  rustic  stage*  is  set  up,  tumblers  and 
jugglers,  surrounded  by  groups  of  spectators,  give 
their  performances,  and  all  unite  in  a  scene  of  general 
merriment.  Couples,  each  consisting  of  a  boy  and  a 
.girl,  carry  May  garlands,  sing  May  day  songs,  and 
solicit  offerings.  The  young  men  chase  the  girls  and 
kiss  them  "under  the  green,"  i.  e.,  while  raising  the 
boughs  of  green  over  their  heads. 

4:  MAY  POLE  PROCESSION 

The  following  procession  enters  from  South  Inter- 
lude Gate. 

[i]    Two  Jack-O'- Greens 
[2]     Plough-boys  with  plough. 
[3]     Sowers. 
[4]     Reapers. 

*Here  the  play-actors  enact  a  scene  from  the  old  play  of  "Noah's 
Flood." 


APPENDIX  199 

[5]  Wagon,  drawn  by  several  yoke  of  oxen,  ear- 
ning the  tree. 

[6]  Milkmaids. 

[7]  Blacksmiths. 

[8]  Wheelwrights. 

[9]  Carpenters. 

[10]  Butchers, 

[u]  Shoemakers. 

[i]  Hidden  in  bushes  of  green,  surmounted  by  a 
May  Garland. 

[2]  White  smocks,  patched  with  pictures,  in  red 
and  black  cloth,  representing  farm-animals.  Hats 
covered  with  flowers,  their  plough  smothered  with 
ribbons  and  flowers. 

[3]     Carrying  baskets  of  grain,  pretending  to  sow. 

[4]     With  reaping  hooks  or  sickles. 

[5]  Wagon  and  oxen  decorated  with  greenery  and 
ribbons,  the  horns  of  the  oxen  with  flowers.  The 
carters,  who  walk  on  either  side  of  the  wagon,  wear 
broad-brimmed  hats,  short  smocks,  breeches,  all 
covered  with  ribbons  and  flowers,  and  carry  whips 
or  goads  similarly  decorated,  with  which  they  urge 
on  the  oxen. 

[6]  Carrying  pails  and  dishes;  wearing  short 
dresses,  and  sun-hats  or  bonnets,  all  covered  with 
flowers  and  ribbons. 


200  APPENDIX 

[7]  With  bare  heads,  leathern  aprons,  carrying 
implements  of  trade — hammers,  anvils,  tongs. 

[8]     Carrying  or  rolling  wheels. 

[9]     With  saws,  planes,  tools,  etc. 

[10]  Wearing  blue  blouses,  carrying  marrow  bones 
and  cleavers,  and  clashing  them  as  they  march. 

When  the  wagon  reaches  the  May-pit,  the  proces- 
sion halts.  The  tree  is  ceremonially  removed,  ivy, 
laurels,  and  other  greenery  wound  round  it  spirally, 
a  large  bunch  of  flowers  placed  at  the  top,  and  then, 
in  dead  silence,  solemnly  raised  to  position.  Di- 
rectly this  is  accomplished,  the  spectators  raise  a  great 
shout  and  repeat  it  three  times:  "The  Pole  is  up." 

5:  ELECTION  OF  MAY  QUEEN,  AND  MAY 
POLE  DANCE 

The  men  disperse  in  groups  and,  after  some  dis- 
cussion and  altercation,  proceed  in  a  body  to  the 
woman  of  their  choice,  present  her  with  a  wreath  of 
May  blossom,  with  ribbon  streamers  and  rosettes 
for  her  dress,  and  escort  her  to  a  raised  mound  of 
grass  where  every  one  may  see  her.  She  is  kissed 
"under  the  green"  by  the  men,  amid  much  laughter 
and  merriment.  The  woman  chosen  is  a  regular 
"man's  girl,"  jolly  and  of  a  romping  kind,  quite 
different  from  the  conventional  May  Queen. 

A  large  group  is  formed  round  the  May  pole  in 


APPENDIX  201 

a  ring,  alternately  men  and  women,  and  all  take 
hands.     The  May  pole  dance  is  then  performed— 
"Sellenger's  Round"  and  " Gathering  Peascods." 

6:  HOBBY  HORSE  AND  PADSTOW  MA  Y  SONG 

The  hobby  horse  is  made  in  the  following  way: 
A  wooden  hoop,  about  3  feet  in  diameter,  is  covered 
with  black  canvas  with  a  hole  in  the  centre,  about 
the  size  of  a  man's  head.  The  canvas  is  edged  with 
red  and  white  ribbon  round  the  circumference,  and 
depends  from  the  edges  about  4  feet  like  a  curtain. 
The  hoop  is  then  placed  on  a  man's  shoulders,  his 
head,  hidden  in  a  tall  conical  mask  of  many  colors, 
passing  through  a  hole  in  the  centre  of  the  canvas, 
the  curtain  hiding  his  body  and  legs.  In  the  front 
of  the  hoop  is  a  long,  slender  horse's  head,  made  of 
wood,  and  at  the  back  of  the  hoop  is  attached  a  curly 
horse's  tail  about  18  inches  long.  The  horse  is 
accompanied  by  the  "Club-man"  who  is  dressed 
in  black,  covered  with  rosettes  and  bows  of  colored 
ribbon,  and  wears  a  grotesque  mask  similar  to  that  of 
the  hobby  horse.  Throughout  the  proceedings,  he 
faces  the  Horse  and  dances  backward,  holding  in 
his  right  hand  a  stout,  nobbed  club,  about  18  to  24 
inches  in  length,  colored  like  the  mask. 

The  hobby  horse  enters  from  the  left  Interlude 
Gate,  escorted  by  six  or  eight  couples  of  men,  gaily 


202  APPENDIX 

dressed  and  decorated  with  flowers,  singing  the  May 
song,  in  which  the  assembled  spectators  join.  As 
they  make  their  appearance,  the  crowd  runs  out, 
meets  them,  and  surrounds  them  in  a  ring,  in  the 
middle  of  which  the  horse  and  its  attendant  dance., 
the  former  every  now  and  again  dashing  out  and 
trying  to  catch  one  of  the  maidens,  who,  with  much 
laughter,  usually  succeeds  in  avoiding  his  clumsy 
embraces.  When  the  tune  has  been  sung  a  few  times, 
a  slight  pause  is  made,  the  horse  sinks  down  with  his 
head  on  the  ground,  the  club-man  drops  on  one  knee 
and  places  his  club  on  the  horse's  nose,  while  the 
crowd  sing  very  solemnly  the  dirge-like  strain,  "O 
Where  is  St.  George?"  At  the  conclusion  of  this,  a 
slight  pause  is  made  and  then  the  riotous  May  song 
is  suddenly  taken  up  and  the  dance  resumed.  This 
may  be  repeated  once  or  twice,  when  the  proceedings 
are  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  the 

7:  MORRIS  DANCERS 

The  dancers,  all  of  them  men,  are  16  in  number  and 
are  accompanied  by  a  King  and  Queen,  Witch  and 
Fool,  and  Hobby  horses.  The  Witch  and  Fool  head 
the  procession,  the  former  with  his  broom,  and  the 
latter  with  his  stick,  fox's  tail,  and  bladder  clearing 
the  way.  The  King  and  Queen  march  at  the  head 
of  the  Morris  dancers,  the  King  beating  time  with 


APPENDIX  203 

his  sword.  The  Hobby  horses  prance  round  and  aid 
the  Witch  and  Fool  in  clearing  a  passage.  The 
dancers  move  forward,  dancing  the  "Winster  Pro- 
cessional Dance."  When  the  procession  has  reached 
a  good  position  in  the  centre,  the  tune  changes  and 
without  pause  the  dancers  perform  the  "Winster 
Morris  Reel,"  "The  Old  Woman  Tossed  up  in  a 
Blanket." 

For  the  dresses  of  the  dancers  see  photographs  in 
The  Morris  Book  [parts  II  and  III].  The  Witch  is  a 
man  dressed  in  bedraggled  woman's  clothes,  with 
face  blackened,  and  carries  a  short  besom.  The 
Fool  has  a  pork-pie  hat  covered  with  flowers  and 
feathers,  tunic,  to  the  hips,  of  bright  multi-colored 
stuff  edged  with  silver  fringe,  buckskin  breeches, 
stockings  of  odd  colors,  and  bells  round  the  ankles. 
He  carries  a  stick  with  a  fox's  tail  at  one  end  and  a 
bladder  at  the  other.  Sometimes  he  has  a  dinner- 
bell  attached  to  the  middle  of  his  back.  The  King 
and  Queen  are  serious  characters,  the  latter  being 
represented  by  a  man  dressed  in  woman's  clothes. 
The  King  carries  a  sword  and  should  be  dressed  in  the 
military  dress  of  the  period:  the  Queen  is  grandly 
dressed,  with  a  touch  of  comic  extravagance,  in  the 
garb  of  a  court  lady  of  the  period.  The  Hobby 
horses — say  half  a  dozen  in  number — are  of  the 
"tournament"  variety,  and  carry  sticks  and  bladders. 


204  APPENDIX 

8:  COUNTRY  DANCES  AND  RECESSIONAL 

When  the  Morris  dance  is  finished,  the  company 
disperses  and  amuses  itself  for  a  while  until  the  pipe- 
and- tabor ers  make  their  appearance.  This  is  a  sig- 
nal for  every  one  to  find  a  partner  for  a  country  dance. 
Groups  are  formed  all  over  the  ground  and  "The 
Black  Nag"  is  performed,  followed  by  a  Longways 
dance,  e.  g.,  "Row  well,  ye  mariners."  On  the  con- 
clusion of  the  latter,  the  dancers,  who  are  already 
in  processional  formation,  dance  off  the  ground  to 
the  "Helston  Ferry  Processional  Dance,"  disappear- 
ing in  different  groups  through  the  several  exits. 


EPILOGUE 
ACTION:  INTERNATIONAL  AND  SYMBOLIC 

THEME 

In  three  main,  symbolic  groups — Theatres,  Actors, 
Dramatists — The  Spirit  of  Time  summons  the  cre- 
ative forces  of  the  art  of  the  theatre,  to  defeat  the 
destructive  influences  of  War,  Lust,  and  Death,  and 
prophetically  to  survive  them. 

ACTION* 

First,  from  the  two  gates  [right  and  left]  of  the 
ground-circle,  the  Pageant  of  Theatres  enters  in  two 
processions,  which  group  themselves  [right  and  left 
of  Caliban's  cell]  on  the  flight  of  steps  and  ramps 
leading  to  Stage  B. 

Secondly,  through  the  mouth-entrances  of  the 
Masks  of  Comedy  and  of  Tragedy,  the  Comic  Actors 
[through  the  former]  and  the  Tragic  Actors  [through 
the  latter]  enter  upon  stage  B,  cross  before  Prospero 

*The  Action  here  described,  like  that  of  all  the  preceding  Interludes, 
is  simply  a  preliminary  outline,  subject  to  modification  and  develop- 
ment at  rehearsals. 

205 


206  APPENDIX 

and  take  their  stations,  with  their  respective  The- 
atres, on  the  steps  and  ramps. 

Thirdly,  the  Dramatists,  of  Comedy  and  Tragedy, 
do  likewise. 

In  this  procession  of  the  Dramatists,  occurs  the 
pantomime  and  stage  business  of  the  meeting  between 
Prospero  and  Shakespeare. 

After  the  procession  of  Dramatists,  all  three  main 
groups  are  enveloped  by  darkness,  in  which — after 
the  final  choir  of  Ariel's  spirits — they  disperse,  un- 
seen. 

EPILOGUE 

COMMUNITY  ACTORS  [300] 
Comprise 

SPECIALS:  300 

Theatres:  Total        100  persons  [25  groups] 
Actors:  "       100       " 

Dramatists:       "       100       " 


*Grand  total  300      " 

From  the  following  lists  of  Theatres,  Actors,  and 
Dramatists,  revised  and  modified,  the  final  groups 

*With  this  number  several  hundred  of  the  Interlude  participants  and 
Masque  figurants  arc  to  be  correlated  in  the  final  ensemble. 


APPENDIX  207 

will  be  selected.  The  lists,  as  here  given,  are  merely 
preliminary,  and  have  been  sketched  in,  during  the 
printing  of  this  Appendix,  so  as  not  to  be  wholly 
omitted  from  the  publication  of  this  edition.  As  far 
as  they  concern  the  New  York  production  of  the 
Masque,  they  are  not  to  be  construed  as  anything  more 
tJian  suggestive  material  for  the  necessarily  impression- 
istic pageant- groups  of  the  Epilogue. 

THEATRES 

ANCIENT  GREECE 

Theatre    of    Dionysus    at    Athens,     Epidaurus, 
Ephesus,  Sicyon. 

ANCIENT  ROME 

Theatre  of  Pompey,  Scarrus,  Balbus  Cornelius, 
Marcellus. 

Provincial  Theatres 
Antioch,  Lyons,  Herculaneum,  Orange. 

CONSTANTINOPLE 
Hippodrome,  of  Emperor  Septimius  Severus. 

ITALY 

Florence della  Pergola 

Venice  Fenice 


208  APPENDIX 

Genoa Carlo  Felice 

Milan La  Scala 

Vicenza Olympian  Theatre 

PORTUGAL 
Lisbon San  Carlos 

FRANCE 

Hotel  du  Burgoyne,  Comedie  Francaise,  Palais 
Royal,  Odeon,  Porte  St.  Martin,  Antoine. 

AUSTRIA 
Vienna .     Burgteater 

GERMANY 

Weimar,  Deutsches,  Lessing. 

RUSSIA 

Art  Theatre,  Warsaw;  Kremlin,  Moscow. 

AMERICA 

New  York 
Booth's,  Bowery,  Wallack's,  Daly's. 

Boston 
Federal  Street,  Boston  Theatre,  Boston  Museum. 


APPE  N  DIX  209 

Philadelphia 
Arch  Street,  Walnut  Street,  Chestnut  Street. 

Chicago 
McVicker's. 

San  Francisco 
California. 

Washington 
Ford's. 

New  Orleans 
St.  Charles. 

ENGLAND 

Globe,    Bankside,    Bear    Garden,    Hope,    Swan, 
Drury  Lane,  Haymarket,  Covent  Garden. 

Dublin 
Smock  Alley. 

ACTORS 
GREECE 

Thespis,  Polus  [of  Aegina],  Aristodemus,  Neop- 
tolemus,  Thessalus,  Athenodorus,  Cleander,  Myn- 
niscus  [of  Chalcis],  Callipides,  Timotheus. 

ROME 

Esopus,  Roscius,  C.  Publilius,  Ambivius  Turpio, 
Haitilius  Praenestinus,  Bathyllus,  Pylades,  Publilius 
Syrus. 


210  APPENDIX 

ITALY 

[Actors]  Domenico  Biancolelli,  Luigi  Riccoboni, 
Nicola  Barbieri,  Francesco  Andreini,  Fiorelli,  Tom- 
masino,  Salvini,  Madena,  Rossi. 

[Actresses]  Sedowsky,  Isabella  Andreini,  Ristori. 

SPAIN 

[Actors]  Lope  de  Rueda,  Navarro  of  Toledo, 
Alonso  de  Olmedo,  Sebastian  de  Prado,  Isidoro 
Maiquez,  Jose  Valero,  Julian  Romea,  Rafael  Calvo, 
Antonio  Vico. 

[Actresses]  La  Baltasara,  La  Calderona,  La  Pach- 
eca,  La  Tirana,  Rita  Luna,  Matilde  Diez. 

FRANCE 

[Actors]  Jodelet,  Harduin,  Rodogune,  Talma,  Got, 
LeKain,  Mole,  Freville,  Baron,  Montfleury,  Lemaitre, 
Coquelin,  Mounet  Sulley. 

[Actresses]  Dangville,  Rachel,  George,  Mars,  Des 
Oeillets,  Bejart,  Champmesle,  Lecouvreur,  Dumes- 
nil,  Clairon,  David. 

HOLLAND 

[Actors]  Louis  Bouwmeister,  Willem  Haverkorn, 
Johannes  Haverkamp,  Andries  Snoek. 
[Actresses]  Mme.  Wattier. 


APPENDIX  211 

GERMANY 

[Actors]  Possart,  Barnay,  Kainz,  Iffland,  Konrad, 
Ekkof,  Dawison,  Lewinsky,  Dohring,  Ackerman, 
Carl  Bonn,  Dalberg,  L.  Dessoit,  Anschutz,  Hasse, 
Beckmann,  Gabillon. 

[Actresses]  Sonnenthal,  Devrient,  Schroder,  Caro- 
lina Neuber,  Charlotte  Wolter,  Julie  Rettich,  Julie 
Lowe,  Carolina  Bauer,  Geistinger,  Zitt,  Raabe, 
Buske,  Fleck,  Brockmann,  Matkowsky,  Dingel- 
stedt,  Borchers. 

[SCANDINAVIA] 

DENMARK 

[Actors]  Ludwig  Phister,  Christen  N.  Rosenkilde, 
Nicolai  Nielsen,  Emil  Poulsen,  Michael  Wieke, 
Michael  Rosing. 

[Actresses]  Johanne  Louise  Heiberg,  Anna  Neilsen, 
Julie  Sodring. 

SWEDEN 

[Actors]  Fredrik  Deland,  Ebba  Hwasser,  Pierre 
Deland,  Karl  Georg  Dahlquist. 

NORWA  Y 

[Actors]  Johannes  Brun,  Henrik  Klausen. 
[Actresses]  Laura  Gundersen,  Lucie  Wolf,  Sophie 
Pavelius. 


212  APPENDIX 

RUSSIA 

[Actors]  V.  Samoilov,  N.  Samoilov,  Nikitin,  Ershov, 
Lenski,  Karatygina  (family),  M.  S.  Shchepkin, 
Krapivnitzki. 

[Actresses]  Fedotava,  Vyera  Samortova,  Savina, 
Karatygina  (family),  Kommissaryhevskaya,  E.  P. 
Struyskaya. 

AMERICA 

[Actors]  Junius  Brutus  Booth,  Jas.  Wallack,  Ed- 
win Forrest,  Edwin  Booth,  Lester  Wallack,  Wm. 
Warren,  John  McCulloch,  Lawrence  Barrett,  E.  A. 
Sothern,  Jos.  Jefferson,  Wm.  Florence,  James  A. 
Hackett,  John  Gilbert,  Edward  L.  Davenport,  Wm. 
B.  Wood,  T.  A.  Cooper,  Wilson  Barrett,  Rignold, 
Chas.  Wheatley,  MacKean,  Buchanon,  James  Mur- 
dock,  J.  B.  Roberts,  Williamson,  WThiffin,  Tony 
Pastor,  Hart,  Harrigan,  Stuart  Robson,  John  T.  Ray- 
mond, Denman  Thompson,  Maurice  Barrymore, 
Richard  Mansfield. 

[Actresses]  Charlotte  Cushman,  Mrs.  John  Drew, 
Modjeska,  Matilda  Heron,  Mme.  Ponisi,  "Laura 
Keene,  Fannie  Davenport,  Ada  Rehan. 

GREAT  BRITAIN 

[Actors]  Burbage,  Betteron,  Colley  Cibber,  Gar- 
rick,  Macready,  Edmund  Kean,  Tyrone  Power, 
Samuel  Phelps,  Buckstone,  Charles  Macklin,  Samuel 


APPENDIX  213 

Foote,  Tate  Wilkinson,  Barry,  Quinn,  Henderson, 
John  Philip  Kemble,  Robert  Wilks,  Thomas  Sheri- 
dan, Henry  Mossop,  John  Listen,  William  Betty, 
Henry  Irving,  Lawrence  Irving. 

[Actresses]  Nance  Oldfield,  Mrs.  Betterton,  Mrs. 
Mountfort,  Mrs.  Bracegirdle,  Nell  Gwynne,  Mrs. 
Siddons,  Peg  Woffington,  Fanny  Kemble,  Hannah 
Pritchard,  Mrs.  Abington,  Mrs.  Jordan,  George 
Anne  Bellamy,  Helen  Barry,  Helen  Faucit,  Kather- 
ine  Clive,  Mrs.  Farren. 

DRAMATISTS 
GREECE 

[Tragedy]  Aeschylus,  Choerilus,  Pratinas,  Phry- 
nichus,  Sophocles,  Euripides,  Carcinus,  Chaeremon. 

[Comedy]  Phormis  [of  Maenalus],  Epicharmus, 
Susarion,  Chionides,  Aristophanes,  Eupolis,  Magnes, 
Philemon,  Menander,  Rhinthon,  Apollodorus,  Diph- 
ilus,  Posidippus. 

ROME 

[Tragedy]  Livius  Andronicus,  Accius,  Pacuvius, 
Asinius  Pollis,  Varius,  Ovid,  Seneca,  Curiatius 
Maternus,  J.  Caesar  Strabo. 

[Comedy]  Plautus,  Terence,  Ennius,  Statius  Caecil- 
ius,  Lavinius,  Naevius,  Melissus,  Afranius,  Laberius, 
Pomponius,  Atta. 


214  APPENDIX 

ITALY 

[Tragedy]  Ariosto,  Manzoni,  Alfieri,  Nicolini, 
Tasso. 

[Comedy]  Metastasio,  Martelli,  Maffei,  Gozzi, 
Pindemonti,  Monti,  Flavio,  Goldoni. 

SPAIN  AND  PORTUGAL 

[Spain]  Cervantes,  Lope  de  Vega,  Calderon,  Alar- 
con,  Gongora,  Argensola,  Moreto,  de  Hoz,  Cani- 
zarez,  Luzan,  Huerta. 

[Portugal]  Saa  de  Miranda,  Gil  Vincente,  Ferreira, 
Garcao. 

FRANCE 

Etienne  Jodelle,  Gamier,  Larivey,  Montcretien, 
Hardi,  Viaud,  Scuderi,  Corneille,  Boisrobert,  Chev- 
reau,  Scarron,  de  Bergerac,  Quinault,  Moliere, 
Boursault,  Racine,  Voltaire,  FHermite,  Rotrou, 
Crebillon,  Le  Sage,  Beaumarchais,  Longpierre,  Fon- 
tenelli,  La  Motte,  Legrand,  Destouches,  Marivaux, 
Sardou,  Hugo,  Dumas,  Scribe,  Zola,  Legouve,  Augier, 
Halevy,  Le  Maitre,  De  Vigny. 

HOLLAND 

Hooft,  Brederoo,  Vondel,  Vos,  Goes,  Pels,  Asselijn, 
van  Focquenbroch,  Bilderdijk. 


APPENDIX  215 

GERMANY 

Hans  Sachs,  Gryphius,  Gottshed,  Klopstock, 
Wieland,  Herder,  Kozebue,  Hafner,  Goethe,  Schiller, 
Lessing,  Novalis,  Arnim,  Hoffmann,  Hrotsvitha  of 
Gandersheim,  Kleist,  Grillparzer,  Schlegel,  Freytag, 
Heyse,  Gutzkow,  Wagner,  Werner,  Korner,  Klinge- 
mann,  Uhland,  Chamisso,  Arndt,  Heine,  Grabbe, 
Immermann,  Weise,  Grinunelohausen,  Klinger,  Lud- 
wig,  Laube,  Holm,  Giebel,  Wildenbruch,  Angen- 
gruber,  Nestroy,  Raimund. 

SCANDINAVIA 

Holberg,  Oehlenschlager,  J.  L.  Heiberg,  Bjorn- 
son,  Wessel,  Ewald,  Hauch,  Hostrup,  Hertz,  Palu- 
dan-Muller,  Overskou,  Ibsen,  Lidner,  Tegner,  Rune- 
berg,  Blanche,  Strindberg,  Kielland,  Lie. 

RUSSIA 

Sumarokoff,  Catherine  II,  Von  Viezin,  Krilov, 
Astrovski,  Pushkin,  Gogol,  Tolstoi,  Tchekhof,  Grib- 
oyedov. 

AMERICA 

Royal  Tyler,  John  Howard  Payne,  Boker,  Long- 
fellow, Wm.  Young,  N.  P.  Willis,  Dion  Boucicault, 
John  Brougham,  Augustin  Daly,  Steele  MacKaye, 


2i6  APPENDIX 

Bronson  Howard,   James  A.   Herne,   Clyde  Fitch, 
William  Vaughn  Moody. 

GREAT  BRITAIN 

Beaumont,  Fletcher,  '  Jonson,  Shirley,  Greene, 
Peele,  Webster,  Ford,  Massinger,  Middleton,  Hey- 
wood,  Lyly,  Marlowe,  Shakespeare,  Dekker,  Mars- 
ton: — Dryden,  Wycherley,  Congreve,  Vanbrugh, 
Otway,  Etheredge,  d'Urfey,  Farquhar,  d'Avenant, 
Sedley,  Lacy,  Shadwell,  Crowne,  Steele,  Addison, 
Rowe: — Goldsmith,  Sheridan,  Fielding,  Shelley:— 
Knowles,  Lytton,  Robertson,  Tennyson,  Browning, 
Reade,  Taylor,  Wilde :— Phillips,  Synge,  Hankin, 
Davidson. 


ANNOUNCEMENTS 

Information  for  Communities,  Clubs,   Societies,  and  Drama 
League  Centres  throughout  the  Country  about 

Mr.  PERCY  MACKAYE'S 


SHAKESPEARE    TERCENTENARY    MASQUE 

Entitled 
"CALIBAN:  BY  THE  YELLOW  SANDS" 

Doubleday,  Page  &  Company  have  pleasure  in 
announcing  Mr.  MacKaye's  Masque,  which  in  many 
respects  has  become  the  national  tribute  of  the  New 
York  Shakespeare  Celebration,  the  Shakespeare  Na- 
tional Memorial  Committee,  and  The  Drama  League 
of  America  for  the  anniversary  of  1916. 

The  publication  of  the  Masque  has  been  hurried 
as  much  as  possible  in  order  to  give  communities, 
societies,  colleges,  and  Drama  League  centres  through- 
out the  country  an  opportunity  to  read  the  text  and 
thus  arrange  their  celebrations  in  harmony  with  the 
Masque. 

The  first  performances  of  the  Masque  will  be  given 
by  the  New  York  Shakespeare  Celebration  during  the 
week  of  May  23d,  when  it  will  be  enacted  out  of 

217 


2i8  APPENDIX 

doors,  at  night,  in  the  City  College  Stadium  adapted 
to  seat  about  20,000  spectators.  There  several 
thousand  citizens  of  New  York  will  take  part  in  con- 
junction with  a  body  of  actors  of  national  repute. 
It  will  then  be  released  for  use  by  other  communities 
or  societies  on  June  ist.  Immediately  after  the 
close  of  the  New  York  performances,  a  professional 
company  will  take  the  Masque  on  the  road  for  presen- 
tation by  them  in  conjunction  with  community  and 
club  groups  throughout  the  country.  The  profes- 
sional company  will  fill  the  leading  parts  and  take 
with  them  a  complete  outfit  of  scenery  and  properties. 
For  full  particulars,  address  the  Chairman  of  the 
National  Circuit  Committee,  736  Marquette  Bldg., 
Chicago,  111.,  or,  Augustin  Duncan,  50  West  i2th  St., 
New  York  City. 

Amateur  performances  of  the  Masque  may  also  be 
given  after  June  ist,  without  the  aid  of  the  profes- 
sional company,  by  making  proper  arrangements 
for  securing  permission.  Full  directions  for  amateur 
performances,  or  for  public  readings  where  seats  are 
sold,  may  be  had  from  Miss  Alice  Houston,  National 
Headquarters,  Drama  League  of  America,  Chicago, 
IU. 

The  Drama  League  of  America  strongly  recom- 
mends to  its  centres  the  use  of  the  Masque  as  the 
special  League  reading  for  April.  The  text  will  be 


APPENDIX  219 

available  in  two  editions:  Paper  at  50  cents  and 
Cloth  at  $1.25  or  thereabouts. 

The  Drama  League  hopes  to  establish  in  the  near 
future  a  Pageant  Series,  similar  to  the  Play  Scries,  of 
which  "Caliban"  by  Mr.  MacKaye  would  be  the 
first  volume. 


REMEMBER  THESE  POINTS 

"CALIBAN:  BY  THE  YELLOW  SANDS" 
By    Percy    MacKaye.     A    National    tribute    to 
Shakespeare  for  1916.     Endorsed  by  the  Drama 
League  of  America. 

FIRST  PERFORMANCE 

New  York,   May  23d,  by  citizens  and   notable 
group  of  professional  actors. 

RELEASED  FOR  GENERAL  USE 
June  i  st.     Acting  rights  may  be  secured  as  indi- 
cated below:— 

PERFORMANCES  BY  COMMUNITIES  OR 
CLUBS  WITH  PROFESSIONAL  COMPANY 
Full  particulars  may  be  had  by  addressing  Miss 
Alice  M.  Houston,  Chairman  Circuit  Committee, 
Drama  League  of  America,    1426   Forest  Ave., 
Evanston,  111. 


220  APPENDIX 

ALL- AMATEUR  PERFORMANCES 

Full  particulars  may  be  had  by  addressing  Miss 
Clara  Fitch,  Chairman  Shakespeare  Tercentenary 
Committee,  736  Marquette  Bldg.,  Chicago,  111. 

PUBLIC    READINGS    WHERE    SEATS    ARE 

SOLD 

For  particulars  address  Miss  Houston  (as  above). 

THE  PRINTED  BOOK  OF  THE  MASQUE 
Paper  edition  50  cents.     Cloth  edition  $1.25  net. 
For  sale  everywhere  at  book  shops  or  by  Double- 
day,  Page  &  Company,  Garden  City,  New  York. 


New  York  City 
Shakespeare  Tercentenary  Celebration 


CIVIC  ORGANIZATION 


MISS  MARY  PORTER  BEEGLE,  Chairman 


MRS.  AXEL  O.  IHLSENG,  Executive  Secretary 
10  EAST  43o  STREET,  NEW  YORK  CITY 

Telephone,  Murray  Hill  9745 

Supplementary  Celebrations  Chairman  of  Finance 

MISS  KATE  OGLEBAY,  Chairman  MR.   W.  FORBES  MORGAN,   JR. 

MISS      FERN      CLAWSON,       Vice-  Executive  Chairman 

Chairman  MR.  EVERARD  THOMPSON 


Advisory  on  Forms  of  Celebrations 
MISS  JOSEPHINE  BEIDERHASE 
MISS  FRANCES  E.  CLARKE 
MR.  ARTHUR  FARWELL 
MR.  WM.  CHAUNCY  LANGDON 
MISS  AZUBAH  LATHAM 
MISS  CONSTANCE  MACK  AY 


Masque  Committee  Chairman 
MRS.  SIMEON  FORD 

Music 
MR.  HARRY  BIRNBAUM 


Organizing  Director  of  the  Masque 
Mr.  GARNET  HOLME 
Telephone,  Greeley  1137 


Board  of  Directors 


PROF.  ALLAN  ABBOTT 

Miss  MARY  PORTER  BEEGLE 

DR.  WILLIAM  E.  BOHN 

CRANSTON  BRENTON 

JOHN  COLLIER 

Miss  LAURA  SEDGWICK  COLLINS 

MRS.  AUGUST  DREYER 

MAX  EASTMAN 

MRS.  WILLIAM  EINSTEIN 

MRS.  SIMEON  FORD 

MRS.  DANIEL  GUGGENHEIM 


DR.  GEORGE  F.  KUNZ 

HOWARD  KYLE 

Miss  OLIVIA  LEVENTRITT 

MRS.  PHILIP  M.  LYDIG 

W.  FORBES  MORGAN,  JR. 

MRS.  M.  FAIRCHILD  OSBORN 

Miss  FLORENCE  OVERTON 

REV.  DR.  JOSEPH  SILVERMAN 

PROF.  EDMUND  BRONK  SOUTHWICK 

MR.  M.  J.  STROOCK 

MR.  EVERARD  THOMPSON 


MRS.  J.  NORMAN  DE  R.  WHITEHOUSE 


221 


THE  SHAKESPEARE  CELEBRATION 

will  present 

in  the  Lewisohn  Stadium  of  the  College  of  the  City  of  New  York 
on  the  nights  of  May  23,  24,  25,  26,  27,  1916,  at  Eight  O'clock 

The  Community  Masque 

CALIBAN 
By  the  Yellow  Sands 

PRODUCTION  STAFF 

Author  and  Director 
PERCY  MACKAYE 

Composer  and  Director  of  Music 
ARTHUR  FARWELL 

Producers 
JOSEPH  URBAN 
RICHARD  ORDYNSKI 

Designer  of  Inner  Scenes 
ROBERT  EDMOND  JONES 

Director  of  Interludes 
GARNET  HOLME 

Director  of  Costumes 
MRS.  JOHN  W.  ALEXANDER 

Director  of  Dances 
MRS.  ROBERT  ANDERSON 

Staff  Assistant 
HAZEL  MACKAYE 

Office  of  the  Director:  529  Marbridge  Bldg.  (34th  St.  &  6th  Ave.); 
telephone,  Greeley  1137. 

For  particulars  regarding  Tickets,  etc.,  communication  should  be  made 
with  the  office  of  the  Shakespeare  Celebration,  10  East  43d  St.,  New  York. 
Telephones,  Murray  Hill  9745  and  4158. 


THE  MAYOR'S  HONORARY  COMMITTEE 

For  the  New  York  Shakespeare  Celebration 
OTTO  H.  KAHN,  Chairman. 


HERBERT  ADAMS 

DR.  FELIX  ABLER 

JACOB  P.  ADLER 

JOHN  G.  AGAR 

ROBERT  AITKEN 

WINTHROP  AMES 

BONN  BARBER 

JOSEPH  BARONDESS 

MRS.  AUGUST  BELMONT 

GUTZON  BORGLUM 

CHANCELLOR  ELMER  E.  BROWN 

HENRY  BRUERE 

ARNOLD  BRUNNER 

PRES.  NICHOLAS  MURRAY  BUTLER 

ABRAHAM  CAHAN 

MRS.  WILLIAM  ASTOR  CHANDLER 

WILLIAM  M.  CHASE 

JOSEPH  H.  CHOATE 

THOMAS  W.  CHURCHILL 

PAUL  D.  CRAVATH 

JOHN  D.  CRLMMLNS 

GEORGE  CROMWELL 

R.  FULTON  CUTTING 

WALTER  DAMROSCH 

R.  S.  DAVIS 

HENRY  P.  DAVISON 

ROBT.    W.    DEFOREST 

MRS.  CAMDEN  C.  DIKE 

A.    J.    DlTTENHOEFER 

CLEVELAND  H.  DODGE 

CAROLINE  B.  Dow 

FRANK  L.  DOWLING 

MRS.  H.  EDWARD  DREIER 

MAX  EASTMAN 

SAMUEL  H.  EVINS 

JOHN  H.  FINLEY 

NED  ARDEN  FLOOD 

DANIEL  C.  FRENCH 

CHARLES  DANA  GIBSON 

BERTRAM  C.  GOODHUE 

RT.  REV.  DAVID  H.  GREER 

JULES  GUERIN 

MRS.  DANIEL  GUGGENHEIM 

MRS.  BENJAMIN  GUINESS 

NORMAN  HAPGOOD 

MRS.  J.  BORDEN  HARRIMAN 

WILLIAM  LAUREL  HARRIS 

COL.  GEORGE  HARVEY 

TIMOTHY  HEALY 

A.  BARTON  HEPBURN 

MORRIS  HILLQUIT 

JAMES  P.  HOLLAND 


REV.  JOHN  HAYNES  HOLMES 
FREDERIC  C.  HOWE 
ARTHUR  CURTISS  JAMES 
MRS.  PAUL  KENNADAY 
DR.  J.  J.  KINDRED 
DARWIN  P.  KINGSLEY 
LEE  KOHNS 
DR.  GEORGE  F.  KUNZ 
THOMAS  W.  LAMONT 
DR.  HENRY  M.  LELPSIGER 
ADOLPH  LEWISOHN 
M.  J.  LAVELLE,  V.G. 
WALTER  LLPPMANN 
PHILIP  LYDIG 
CLARENCE  H.  MACKAY 
Miss  ELIZABETH  MARBURY 
EDWIN  MARKHAM 
Miss  HELEN  MAROT 
DR.  BRANDER  MATTHEWS 
REV.  HOWARD  MELISH 
DR.  APPLETON  MORGAN 

LP.  MORGAN 
.  HENRY  MOSKOWITZ 
ADOLPH  S.  OCHS 
RALPH  PULITZER 
PERCY  R.  PYNE,  ad 
W.  C.  REICK 
ELLHU  ROOT 
EDWARD  A.  RUMELY 
JACOB  M.  SCHIFF 
MORTIMER  L.  SCHIFF 
JAMES  SPEYER 
FRANCIS  LYNDE  STETSON 
FREDERIC  A.  STOKES 

.  G.  PHELPS  STOKES 

OSEF  STRANSKY 
CAR  S.  STRAUS 
AUGUSTUS  THOMAS 
Louis  UNTERMEYER 
MRS.  WILLIAM  K.  VANDERBILT 
OSWALD  GARRISON  VILLARD 
Miss  LILLIAN  D.  WALD 
DR.  JAMES  J.  WALSH 
CABOT  WARD 
J.  ALDEN  WEIR 
CHARLES  D.  WETMORE 
EDWARD  J.  WHEELER 
F.  W.  WHITRIDGE 
THOMAS  W.  WHITTLE 
GEORGE  WICKERSHAM 
WJXLIAM  G.  WILLCOX 
DR.  STEPHEN  S.  WISE 
H.  J.  WRIGHT 


223 


THE   COUNTRY   LIFE    PRESS 
GARDEN   CITY,    N.   Y. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  DATE  stamped  below. 


50m-12,'70(Pl25l88)2373-3A,l 


AT  1ID1  C 


11 


3  2106  00212  6099 


